


Heritage of the Lunatak Empire

by Knave_Iespyk



Series: Lunar Cycle Series [1]
Category: Thundercats
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-30
Updated: 2010-08-30
Packaged: 2017-10-11 08:53:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 73,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/110609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knave_Iespyk/pseuds/Knave_Iespyk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Lunatak empire is fractured.  Moon has fought against moon ever since Queen Luna made her fateful expedition to Third Earth eighty years ago.  Civil war has reigned, and King Tycho struggles to maintain order.  In the middle of this, one moon discovers that Luna's crew didn't perish on that distant planet, and investigate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Heritage of the Lunatak Empire by Jonathan J. Prideaux  
Chapter 1

The office of Nitro, sire of House Iespyk, was adorned with the remnants of his various conquests. A half dozen sabers, pelts of fallen victims, news reports, trophies and other such souvenirs covered the walls. Located prominently behind the desk was the hide of a Thunderian cheetah, a pelt that was certain to irritate his next guest.

Nitro had never gotten along well with his second son, the result of a careless harem session, and took great pride in reminding the lad of his place in Icewalkers society. The Icewalkers took great pride in the purity of their race, for only by remaining pure could they ever hope to win the war for domination. When his men had captured a Thunderian freighter, they had allowed only one survivor. A cheetah woman whose natural beauty and willingness to do what it took to survive made her a novelty piece in his harem. Said novelty had worn off when it turned out their species were compatible. She had been summarily executed after an escape attempt.

Naturally the animosity between father and son was returned. Knave, even his name denoting his status, was careful to be as vicious toward his father as he could without being declared insubordinate. Even as he strode into the office his rebellious nature could be sensed. Not for the first time, Nitro wondered if it had been a mistake to let the child live. His white and black fur was heavily matted with blood, assuredly none of it his own, and his simple blue vest and pants were in a tattered condition. But it was the fire in his eyes as he reluctantly knelt on the floor that told the tale. "You summoned me, sire?" Knave asked, filling the final word with sarcasm.

"Indeed I have," Nitro answered, steepling his fingers. "The cargo ship was captured and brought here three hours ago. You have either slipped in your abilities or are hiding something."

"Slipped? I must have lost track of the time, I was having so much fun," Knave said, grinning widely. The job of interrogator had been a natural position for him. He enjoyed violence immensely, viewing every prisoner as his prey. Most prisoners' resolve broke within minutes of his ministrations. "There were three on board. There were two Darklings who claimed to be merchants, looking to establish trade relations or some such. Even after lengthy discussions, they seemed to be sticking to the story. Of course, they are trading in fire wine, which is suspicious in itself."

Nitro raised an eyebrow. There were three basic types of Icewalker. Ones who could manipulate ice, those who could manipulate fire, and those who could do both. To the first group, fire wine was a lethal beverage. It reacted poorly to their systems, resulting in almost instantaneous death. "I see. And the other?"

"He's a little more interesting. An Icewalker named Cameo. His mother is part of House Mymekon, a minor ranked family located in the Froston Ridge, our records make no mention of his father. He claims he knew nothing of the fire wine, but had accompanied the merchants because he has news," Knave's eyes shone, showing that the news indeed had been very interesting.

"And how much persuasion did he need to divulge this news?" Nitro asked, hating the game his son was clearly playing.

"That's the strange part. He claims that he'd found himself stranded on the Dark Moon when he came across this information and knew that he had to get it into your hands at once. That's why he got himself passage on board with those Darklings. I wondered if he was lying to save his own skin, but once I heard what he had to offer..."

Nitro tapped his foot. The whelp was going to make him work to hear this information, and that irritated him. Very well then. "And what was this news that he brings us and why isn't it in my hands yet?"

"Oh, right. He claims to have proof on the Darkling moon that the Excelsior's crew didn't die when their shipped crashed a hundred years ago. In fact, they somehow still live on a little planet known as Third Earth." Knave said.

The expression on Nitro's face matched that of his secretary's. "Mother?" he asked, the word barely audible.

"Grandmother Chilla. Alive and well," Knave said, breaking into a wide grin.

"If he can provide this proof, there is nothing he can ask for that will be too great," Nitro said, rising, "you will accompany him to the Dark Moon and get this proof. Then you and he will travel to Third Earth and bring her back. Oh, and if he's lying, kill him in the most brutal fashion you can."

Knave rose and bowed. "It will be done."

* * *

Not too far away on the moon a lone figure gazed up at the mountain city, once again cursing the Icewalkers for having such a desolate home. Cold wind nipped at the figure's skin causing them to bundle up further. The woman was of Psion decent, a moon that was virtually all desert, and that made this cold even more unbearable. The cities on this moon were largely carved into the rock of the many mountains. The more wealthy families were located near the summit, accessible only by ship, by the heavily guarded tunnels, or by treacherous footpaths. It was the last that the woman would need to use in order to reach her destination. She pulled her cloak more tightly about her and prayed that no wolves were on the prowl today.

* * *

On another moon, a densely forested moon whose canopy of trees were so thick that light struggled to pierce the veil, a lone bus droned quietly along the road. There were few patrons on the vehicle, and most of them stood or sat near the front of the bus in order to be away from the elderly lady and the small boy that accompanied her. They regarded her with a mixture of distaste and pity as she, like many, had been affected by the tainting of the water supply a few years back. Her skin had darkened, the first symptom that the victims developed, and then it had affected her mind. Most died within weeks, but she had not.

"Parsnips!" she cried out suddenly, much to the lad's annoyance. It had been such a quiet trip that he'd almost hoped this wouldn't happen. "If I don't get some parsnips soon I will surely die!"

"Don't worry nana. We'll get you some soon," he said, patting her hand reassuringly. She had been a friend of the family for years and when she had been hit by the poisoning they had taken her in. "Please settle down, people are staring."

"Bah. Let them stare. Why, men used to stare at me all the time when I was younger, did you know? And now they won't give me any damn parsnips," she grumbled.

"I promised we'd get you some. We're almost at the doctor," he assured her, wishing the trip to be over. He was just about to say more when there was a blinding flash of light followed swiftly by an explosion. Screams filled the air as the bus was rent in many pieces. The lad felt himself lifted into the air by the force of the blast and hit the ground hard. He struggled to get up, to get to safety, but felt something heavy land on his back, knocking him unconscious.

* * *

The city of Dagger Mouth Ridge was located in the southern region of the Ice Moon. Since the House Iespyk governed the city, everyone turned a blind eye to the goings on of the dungeon. As Knave walked the tunnels he noted the looks and wide berth he was given. He knew what people thought of half-breeds and he knew of his reputation, they may have been looks of loathing, but they were also ones of respect and fear. He was at odds, a circumstance he blamed on his mixed heritage. The Lunatak side despised them, hated how he was treated and longed to have a chance to demonstrate his skills. The Thunderian side countered that these were his people, he had been taught that they were the superior race and deserved his unswerving loyalty and that if he wanted their respect he would have to earn it.

One man who had earned some of Knave's respect was the Icewalker seated in the prison cell. Cameo had proven to be a model prisoner, barely needed any roughing up. He had co-operated with the guards and may have given them the means to win the war. Knave nodded brusquely at the solitary guard watching him and opened the cell door.

"I take it your father believed me?" Cameo asked, looking pleased.

"Yes. You are to take me to this evidence of yours and then to Third Earth," Knave replied, stepping aside. "Once you have provided me with a living Chilla you are free to name your price."

"I'm to go with you?" Cameo asked hesitantly. "That really wasn't part of my plan. I kinda had other plans."

"They've been changed. If you are lying or resist me, I am ordered to kill you in the slowest way imaginable, and believe me I've got a vivid imagination," Knave said, his words causing even the guard to pale.

"I know. I saw what you did to the Darklings. Fine, it's probably for the best if I go with you anyway. It'll be an adventure or something. We'll need a ship of some kind, one that can help us sneak on to the Dark Moon," Cameo said, as Knave led the way out.

* * *

The Psion woman made good time walking the footpath up to the main gate of the House Iespyk compound. Once in sight she paused in the shadows of a boulder and stared intently at the grounds. There were two guards per post, four posts total, and a central building that probably was the barracks. That meant she couldn't afford any errors. She focussed her psychic powers around her and strode forward.

* * *

"Using the same ship we came in on. Brilliant idea," Cameo said, settling into the cockpit of the ship. His companion settled into the passenger seat and leaned back, clearly having little interest in working the controls, and less interest in conversation. "Okay then. The controls aren't too different from the ships I normally fly, so this shouldn't be too bad. Just start the engines, engage thrusters, raise the landing gear and we're good to go." There was no comment from his silent companion, so Cameo went on. "You know, it says quite a bit that your father didn't trust me to do this alone. Wants you to tag along."

"It also says how much he thinks of me," Knave thought to himself, "the Dark Moon is hostile territory to an Icewalker, especially after what my brother did. And who knows what dangers await on this Third Earth."

"I think if things go right, you and I could make quite the pair," Cameo was still going. "You've got the muscle and I've got the brains. The fights we could win against Mutants and Thunderians would be incredible."

"What about Lunataks?" Knave asked.

The question caught Cameo off-guard. He hadn't even been sure if the hybrid was listening. "Well, I guess we could fight Lunataks if we had to. It's just that I've always heard tales of the golden days, when the moons were united against common foes. It's a sound strategy when you think of it. They all have their uses."

"Mostly as stew," Knave remarked, deciding to retreat back into silence.

"Stew? I know it's tradition but it's still disgusting. Anyway, my point is…"

* * *

The rescue teams on the Dark Moon were nothing if not efficient. Within moments of the bus explosion they had contained the damage, the resulting fire had been extinguished and the wounded were sorted into immediate care and those who could wait. The older woman in the back had slipped into a coma, though her injuries were largely superficial. The boy they'd found near her had called her 'Shade' upon opening his eyes and was constantly asking about her. After reassuring her that she was under the best possible care, he'd been convinced that his own wounds needed to be tended to. The pair were placed in an ambulance and rushed off.

* * *

The third moon of Plundarr was home to the royal family of Lunataks. It contained the geography of all the other moons. Lush green forests, sprawling deserts, fertile grasslands and frigid ice caps. It was said in legend that it had once been a planet in its own right until the king decided to split it into segments for each of his five sons to inherit. The current inhabitant of the royal apartments wasn't much into the religious aspect of things. He believed in having keen wits and a healthy heap of luck.

Tycho Lunar, whose lineage to the throne required a flow chart to decipher, lay face down on his bed, reports scattered across the mattress. "Have I ever mentioned how much I hate bureaucracy?" he asked of his companion.

A few centuries ago, it had been discovered that the other moons were using their powers to influence members of the royal family. Since the populace of the Royal Moon had no powers of their own, they did the next best thing; The Guardian program was started. Genetics experts assembled and created all sorts of creatures whose sole purpose in life was the protection of the royal family, each customized to suit the family member's particular desires. Tycho's was a shape changer named Darius, a greenish humanoid with a pair of wings when in his natural form. He stood a little over five feet, though he could draw in and expel mass to some degree through a process Tycho didn't really understand, allowing him to take on just about any form he chose. Tycho wondered where he would be without the man. He was friend, confidante, protector, body double, and lover all rolled into one.

At the moment Darius was watching his ward while seated in an arm chair near the window. "I believe you've mentioned it once or twice," came the reply, a trace of mirth on his lips.

"Look at this," Tycho waved a sheaf of paper in Darius' direction. "It's a letter from the Psions with their list of demands if we want them to sign the new peace treaty. Taxes, trade goods, the right to put someone of their choosing on the throne. Do they really think anyone is going to fall for this? At least the Icewalkers are more straight forward. They have a large number of blood debts they want repaid before they will sign. I seem to have avoided being on that list but a number of other high ranking officials haven't."

Darius stood and walked over to the bed and settled himself at Tycho's side, slowly massaging the man's shoulders. "Dare I ask want the Darklings want?" he asked, his voice turned low and soothing.

"They will only entertain the idea if House Iespyk is brought to justice before them, and we both know the likelihood of that happening," Tycho sighed and flung the papers off the bed. They could wait until morning. It was always the same song and dance anyway. He stared up in to Darius' face "It's about the same as you getting any sleep tonight."

* * *

The small cargo ship approached one of the landing platforms that rose from the greenery. The entire trip Knave had been wondering how the two of them were going to get off the ship and to Cameo's hiding spot. The thought of simply fighting his way through appealed to him, but he knew his limitations. These landing platforms were usually crawling with guards, and the numbers game would add up very quickly. As the ship touched down he was just contemplating how effective a disguise would be when Cameo stood and handed him a small silver disk. "Holoprojector," he explained, "I've already programmed it to show us as Darklings, so try and act the part." Knave nodded and followed him out the door.

* * *

"Your tea, sir," Nitro's secretary said, entering the room and carefully placing an ornate cup on the rock hewn desk. "Will you be requiring anything else tonight?"

"There's one more letter for you to proofread, unless you have other matters?" Nitro replied. It was less a request and more a challenge. The secretary could turn it down, but he would be facing consequences if he did. Reluctantly he took the pages from his sire and settled at his own desk in the corner of the large room. He settled in to work while Nitro perused some paperwork of his own.

It was quiet in the room, the only noises made being the shuffling of paper. Four guards stood at attention near the door, and the thick white carpet muffled the sounds of any movements they might make. So it came as doubly surprising when one of the guards let out a gurgled cry of pain, blood spewing forth from his back. The other three guards wheeled, weapons drawn searching for the attacker to no avail. Nitro stood, a pistol from the drawer in one hand and a sabre in the other. Long seconds passed and the guards grew more and more nervous. A second one suddenly clutched at his throat as blood erupted from a wound that had appeared. The two remaining guards fired blindly in the direction that an attacker would be.

"Whoever you are, you're making a mistake. I am Nitro. Sire of House Iespyk. And you will suffer dearly for this," Nitro said, backing himself into a corner and holding his sabre in front of him.

"Then I have made no mistake," a feminine voice said from somewhere across the room. Nitro tried to estimate where it had come from and fired three shots, each missing. The guards moved in that direction, swinging their own blades wildly.

"Who are you?" Nitro snarled, noting out of the corner of his eye that his secretary had fainted. There was no reply. Indeed, the only sound he could hear was the heavy breathing of the two surviving guards. Then there was a violent cracking sound as one of their heads was turned at an awkward angle, neck snapping, and causing him to fall to the ground.

"Three down, two to go," the voice whispered, seeming to suddenly be very close. Nitro hissed and breathed a stream of ice in the general vicinity of the voice, but seemed to have missed. "A little ventriloquism," the voice taunted. "You are most fortunate. Most of my victims never learn of my presence, never hear my voice or see my face."

Nitro scanned the room, searching for footprints in the carpet or some other clue as to her location. The last guard doubled over clutching his chest. Blood spurted through twin punctures near his heart and Nitro knew that the man would soon be dead. "Why?" he asked, his own heart beating quicker.

"Because my masters wish you to know who has killed you and why. Waiting nearby is the Psion fleet. With one of their lead tacticians dead, your moon will be vulnerable. All I need to do is signal when you die and your people will either surrender or join you in the afterlife," the woman said. Nitro's eyes widened, not in surprise but at what he had noticed. His pistol fired once and he heard a satisfying grunt followed by a flickering image of a cloaked woman. The image faded, though he fancied he could see a slight distortion. Her hand had been on her rib cage and a single blade in her other hand.

The image flickered again, this time showing she was closer, walking somewhat gingerly. Nitro breathed a heavy sheet of ice at the image, grinning broadly when the woman came clearly into view, her body trapped from the waist down in a solid block of ice. "Drop your weapon," he said, pointing with his sabre, "or I remove your hand." Black eyes glowered back at him, but she obeyed. "Good. Now you're going to sing for me, little bird, or else I'll resort to other methods."

"How did you do it?" she asked, hoping to delay, hoping her forces would attack soon.

"You got sloppy. You're obviously a Psion with the power to convince people you're not there. What you couldn't convince me of was the blood dripping from your knife. Once I saw the drops, you were dead. Now talk. Who are you, how many are in your attack force, are there other assassinations planned, where are they planning to strike, who are your ring leaders?" Nitro said, pacing slowly around his prisoner. He gestured at his secretary, who was rousing, to fetch more guards and inform the army to be ready for attack.

The assassin considered. Her employers had paid her very well and would likely attack soon, with or without her signal. The question was what would Nitro do to her in the interim. "My name is Zanaya. I am from the Psion Moon and I refuse to tell you anything that might give you an advantage over my people," she said, earning her a backhand.

"No matter. You would doubtless lie to me anyway," Nitro said, as several guards entered the room. "Take her to the dungeons. She's got camouflage powers, so even if the cell looks empty, it isn't. If she tries to use her powers you have my permission to beat her until she stops. And if the little birdie decides to talk, let me know. I'll be in the war room."

* * *

Roly Poly, head council member of the Graviton Moon settled himself on a bar stool at the government pub. The moon was a peace loving place, preferring to solve problems with a tankard of ale and a bowl of junk food. Whatever booze couldn't solve, the free love could. Half clad Gravitons danced and swayed about the room while others played a shuffleboard-like game or darts.

Outside the bar were verdant fields and sprawling grasslands. Due to the high gravity, nothing grew very tall and that included the inhabitants. There was no such thing as a two story building, though some had luxury basements. Of the five moons, the home of the Gravitons was the most peaceful, remaining out of the conflict and offering themselves as a trading post and as a neutral site for any treaty discussions.

"Ees there any business?" Roly Poly asked, downing a tankard.

"A minor scuffle at one of our trading outposts, but nothing serious," one of the council members said, launching a dart at the target, narrowly missing the board.

"Excellent. Glad to hear eet, Pop Stop. Anything else?" Roly Poly looked about, hopeful there wouldn't be.

"The Snruzz brewing plant ees trying out a new flavour. They're hoping eet will appeal to the Darklings. Eet's supposed to have a buttery taste to eet," a female Graviton, in the middle of an elaborate dance move announced.

"Buttery? This ees indeed important business. The council must sample this before the Darklings do, to make sure eet tastes alright," Roly Poly said, pounding on the bar with one meaty fist. "All een favour?"

"Aye!" came the chorus.

"All opposed?" Not a sound was heard. "I didn't think so."

* * *

Knave fumed silently at the length of time it was taking to get to this secret hiding hole of Cameo's. He almost suspected that he was being delivered into the hands of the proper authorities. Wouldn't that be a feather in the cap of the Darklings. After all, it had been the elder of his two younger brothers that had poisoned the water supply here. No one would have known it was him at all if he hadn't gotten waylaid at the landing pads trying to escape. His execution had been broadcast across the moon, with a copy sent directly to House Iespyk.

Knave recalled watching in horror as Davyn was consumed in flames. He'd actually liked that brother. His other two treated him much the same way his father did, but not Davyn. Davyn saw him as a potential asset on the battlefield and worthy of his trust. It had been Knave that he'd sought out before going on the mission, expressing concern that it wouldn't go well, and wondering if he'd ever see his girlfriend again.

So lost in thought was he that it wasn't until after the third tap on the shoulder that he realized that Cameo was saying something. "What?" He snapped somewhat more irritably than he'd intended.

"I said, we're here. You feeling okay? You've been in a trance the last half hour. Keep a look out for anyone coming. I overheard someone talking about a bus explosion nearby so there might be extra police about," Cameo said, slipping a little ways off the beaten path into the brush. He carefully moved a fallen tree branch off a sizeable rock and then removed said rock. Beneath was a hole containing a locked box. It was this box that Cameo handed to Knave. "Here it is, proof that your grandmother yet lives," he said. "We'll open it once we're back on the ship."

"Why not now?"

"Because, we're in the open, and you probably don't want them seeing what's in here," Cameo said.

* * *

It was dark on the Darkling Moon, but even darker when night fell. Only the foolhardy or brave ventured outside at these hours. By the time Knave and Cameo got to the landing platforms it was almost pitch black. Even their infrared goggles seemed to be helping very little. As a consequence, they found a hotel to stay in, claiming to be tourists from the other side of the moon. The proprietor didn't ask any more questions and gladly sold them a room.

* * *

Tajengo sat at the bedside of Shade. The doctors had insisted that his wound be stitched first, but when it was done he ran to her side. He felt almost to blame for the incident. He'd been the one to insist they take the transit to the clinic, he could have taken his own car, but had been trying to save the fuel cost. He'd also been the one to insist on leaving early and not taking the next bus. It was foolish to play 'what if' but it was all he could do at present. He stroked her hand gently, hoping that she would come out of the coma. A smiling doctor entered, carrying a blanket and draped it over his shoulders, silently encouraging him to catch some sleep where he sat.

* * *

In the war room of Nitro Iespyk, eight of the highest ranking Icewalkers had managed to join Nitro either via monitor or in person. "Reports!" Nitro said, looking from one to another. He had just relayed the limited information provided by his prisoner and his own people.

"Our scanners aren't detecting anything yet out of the ordinary around the Psion Moon."

"Our spies on the Psion Moon have noted some troop activity near their northern city, but nothing entirely out of the ordinary."

"I've been in contact with House Blyzzard and their sire was found dead in his bathtub."

"House Blyzzard, eh? They're in the same mountain range as us, which suggests this region will face the brunt of any attack. Reposition units to this ridge, have our orbital patrols doubled. I want those traitorous Psions to pay for their boldness," Nitro said.

* * *

Tycho extracted himself from the tangle of sheets on his bed. Darius had left some time ago in that way of his that ensured the young king would get all the sleep he could. He'd even managed to set a tray of breakfast on the end table for when he woke. How well Darius knew him, he'd even sorted the thrown papers into piles ranging from important to things he could delegate.

On the top of the first pile was a message from his chief rival, Aristarchus. He was planning to challenge, again, Tycho's claim to the throne, citing a second lover in his grandmother's past that may have been his real father rather than the blood tie he currently claimed. Tycho sighed and bit into a piece of toast, liberally smeared with some kind of jam. Aristarchus would always be a thorn in his side. Others would probably arrange for him to disappear, but Tycho always hoped for a more peaceful end. With the attempts on his own life, it appeared that the only end would be when one of them was resting in peace.

* * *

Cameo settled himself once again in the pilot seat of the cargo ship. The ship wasn't really designed for interstellar travel. They would probably need to change ships again once they returned to the Ice Moon. He tossed Knave a silver key and turned back to focussing on the controls.

The hybrid gingerly opened the box and opened it reverently, his face betraying his excitement at the prospects of what was inside. Five pieces of paper, each bearing the face of one of the passengers from the Excelsior, each bearing their name and a sum offered for their capture. "Signed Evil Chaser First Class Mandora: Interplanetary Control Force," Knave spat. He'd heard the name, she'd even tried to intervene in the wars once. She'd been summarily told off and reminded that the moons governed themselves and answered to no control force. "Do we know if anyone has turned them in?" he asked suddenly.

"I've heard varying reports, but your computers will probably tell us for certain," Cameo replied. "We'll be back home in a few minutes."

Knave remained focussed on the sheets of paper, trying to decide if these could be some kind of forgeries. It just wasn't possible that they could still be alive. Chilla had been forty-two when she'd left. Lunataks were long lived, often reaching a hundred and fifty or so, but even still would make Chilla an old woman. But the picture made her look as young as she'd been when she left. He glanced up and noticed that Cameo was having trouble getting past an Ice Blade fighter that had met them in orbit. He pushed Cameo away from the view screen. "This is Knave, second son of Nitro, of the House Iespyk. We bear urgent news for my father. Unless you wish to anger him you will clear us for landing immediately," he said, staring into the monitor at a suddenly nervous pilot.

"Yes sir, sorry sir. No need to detain you. *ahem* You are cleared for landing," the pilot said, punching some buttons on his console. The screen went blank and Knave smugly settled back into the passenger seat.

"That wasn't necessary. He was just doing his job," Cameo said defensively. As a pilot himself, he was protective of others in the profession.

"I know that, I even admire it, but let him hassle someone else. I don't want to deal with it right now."

* * *

The prisons in the mountain city weren't built for comfort, Zanaya reflected. The guards had manacled one wrist to a long chain attached to the wall and erected an energy field across the door. The walls were solid stone covered in a sheen of ice. The floor was damp, cold and hard. The only light came from the hallway outside the door.

As they'd placed her in the cell the guards had been none too gentle, jarring her ribs against a rocky point in the wall. A doctor, she was assured, would be by later to make sure she wouldn't die from the wound so that they could execute her properly later. She flexed the fingers of her shackled hand, certain that the clasp was on too tight and that they were going numb.

Across the hall from her were two Darklings, one of whom appeared to be missing his legs, and both were coated in blood. The one that was intact, through fits of tears, explained that the other's legs had been chewed off and then force fed to them. If that was the kind of punishment meted out for selling fire wine, Zanaya wondered what murder and attempted assassination would bring.

* * *

Tycho found Darius where he expected him to, waiting patiently outside the door reading a book. He closed the book and fell into step beside the king of the Lunar empire as they headed for their ten o'clock appointment. The two knew each other so well that it was amusing, neither liked being late for anything, and that kind of assurance allowed them to keep reliable schedules. Darius had likely known that Tycho would leave his room at nine fifteen and had made sure he was there at nine oh five.

They were currently headed to one of the genetics labs. Since he'd ascended the throne, the pair had decided that a second Guardian was in order. The creatures were tricky and expensive to produce, so their production was limited. "You know what we should do," Darius said, a hint of cheer in his voice. "We should genetic engineer ourselves a genetic engineer. Someone we can make absolutely loyal to us."

"Oh? And why is that?" Tycho asked, his own mood lifted by Darius'.

"I've always wondered about imprinting traits of loyalty in the Guardians. Surely an unscrupulous person..."

"Like Aristarchus?"

"Like Aristarchus. Surely they could pay our engineer to create a spy. He could have the Guardian pretend to be loyal to us, but actually be loyal to him. Unless of course this person made the genetic engineer a spy. But that just complicates things, don't you think?"

Tycho let out a healthy laugh, wrapping an arm around Darius' shoulders. "You see, that's why I love you. Always thinking. Personally though, present company aside, I dislike the Guardian program. It feels too artificial. You shouldn't have to make people loyal to you, it should come naturally. I would rather have someone want to work for me than to do so because of some geneticist's coding. It's like taking the work out of my hands."

"Oh, I agree, but people can only be trusted so far. For too many, loyalty can be purchased with money, and that's a risk you can't always afford. And yes, engineering takes some of the free will out of it. It's funny that we're so much on the same wave length. Are you sure you didn't program me to agree with anything you say?" Darius asked, eyes twinkling. Tycho laughed again.

* * *

The hangar bay was teeming with activity as the cargo ship landed. The two Lunataks disembarked and stopped a technician going by to ask what was happening. He explained to them the situation and rushed off. "I guess our trip is postponed," Cameo noted, "there's no way we'll be able to get a ship until this is over. Besides, they're going to need all the pilots they can get."

"I suppose my father is going to want me to do something too, probably guard duty or some other menial job," Knave replied. "Well then, we'll meet up after the fight. Stay alive."

"I'll do my best."

* * *

Coldwin climbed into his small fighter craft, an Ice Sabre class ship, and began performing systems checks. It lacked a little in ordinance, but made up for it with manoeuverability. He had to admit that the Psions were his least favourite combatants; they never fought fair. A typical Psion craft held two, unlike his one. The first person was the pilot and gunner, usually reasonably skilled, though the Psions didn't have a large talent pool in this regard. The shortcomings of the pilot were negated by the passenger, usually a telepath or telekinetic. Space combat was difficult enough without someone rummaging through your head, or holding your ship in place, turning you into a sitting duck. Why couldn't it be Mutants? Those were easy. Big bulky ships, loaded with firepower but slow as molasses. Mutant ships he liked. Them he could deal with. But not Psions.

* * *

Zanaya lay still on the bed, chewing on a wad of cloth the doctor had provided. Surgery to remove the bullet that had pierced just below her rib cage was less than pleasant, but necessary. The doctor seemed a pleasant enough person, friendly, almost caring towards her. It was a pity that she would be a pawn in the assassin's escape. "Could... could you check my wrist? I think it's broken," she said, filling her voice with as much weakness as she could. The doctor's eyes widened and she picked up the nearly limp arm. "Ah! It hurts," Zanaya hissed. Gingerly the doctor set it back down and went to speak with the guards.

They were speaking in hushed voices, but Zanaya could tell that the guards were reluctant to unchain her, while the doctor was indicating that she was in no condition to escape. Finally, after a lengthy argument, the guards relented and handed over the key.

As soon as the manacle was removed, the Psion leapt into action, utilizing her camouflage powers, decking the doctor, and diving through the cell door before either of the guards could react. One rushed the door and filled the room with ice and cursed when he realized the prisoner wasn't there. The other guard sprinted for an alarm nearby but found his progress halted as the doctor's scalpel buried itself in his neck. The first guard tried breathing down both halls but couldn't find the escaped prisoner anywhere. With his gun drawn he slowly walked towards the same alarm, eyes scanning around him for any hint of where she might be. He was almost there when Zanaya emerged from the shadows and jumped on his back, hands wrapped tightly around his throat. He struggled for breath even as he felt his life slipping away. He dropped to one knee and then fell forward.

Zanaya counted to thirty before releasing her grip. She walked over to the other guard and examined him. Not dead, merely paralysed. His own people could deal with him. She fished around in his pockets for keys and promptly unlocked all the cells. There weren't many prisoners in here, and many of them were badly injured, but a jailbreak would throw things into confusion enough for her purposes. With that done, Zanaya followed the group out of the dungeons.

* * *

"Ah, Tycho, good to see you again. Come to see the progress I presume?" a thin scientist asked, straightening his coat. Tycho nodded. "Ah, excellent, excellent. You won't be disappointed I think. Chamber number three I believe it is, ah yes, yes. Here it is. Nearly complete, almost ready for awakening. As you can see I started with a captured Panther Thunderian cub, enhanced its reflexes and infused it with a strong sense of loyalty to you, oh yes, loyalty was a little difficult to do. Too much natural loyalty in these Thunderians, have to tweak it and guide it. If they weren't so useful I'd have nothing to do with them, to be honest with you, indeed I wouldn't."

"You've done well, Erdwin, the throne is pleased with your work," Tycho said as formally as he could.

"Is this what I think it is?" Darius asked, pointing at a nearby stasis chamber. It contained a similar looking green skinned creature. This one's tint was a little more vibrant, indicating it was a female of the species.

"Ah that? Oh yes, that one would be for, oh let me look that up. Ah, it seems to be for Kaprenius. He took a great liking to the work my predecessor did on you and asked me to duplicate it. I, ah, must admit to some difficulty. Your shape changing was a closely guarded secret, and I've only figured parts of it out. But I'm nearing a breakthrough, I can feel it in my bones, I can." Erdwin said, rubbing his hands together gleefully.

"Let us know how that turns out. In fact, keep us informed on all your experiments. The empire will reward you well for such knowledge," Tycho said.

"Oh indeed I will, as the majesty requests," Erdwin said, bowing.

* * *

Nothing. Nitro had had nothing for Knave to do, and had suggested that he would be best serving the moon if he stayed in his room out of the way. Feeling useless, he found rage building and knew the best thing to do would be to blow off steam in the dungeons lest he do something he shouldn't. He was rounding a corner when he caught sight of a dozen or so people of varying races. All of whom he'd last seen in the dungeons. Their eyes widened at the sight of him, and the prospect of revenge spurred them into advancing on him.

His family's trademark icepick slipped easily into his hands as he gauged the situation. Twelve on one was normally poor odds, but these were wounded and weakened prisoners which evened the odds tremendously. "You have five seconds to return to your cells," he growled, tensing his muscles.

"Kill him!" someone shouted.

"Avenge the others!" another chimed in.

"I was hoping you'd say that," Knave smiled and pounced, his icepick lashing out at the lead member of the pack, slashing across the belly of an Icewalker who had been caught selling secrets. His fist crunched into the face of the upright Darkling trader, causing both he and his companion to fall. The remaining group tried to swarm him but he was too quick for it and retreated back so he could attack again. As he braced for another assault he thought he caught a whiff of something in the air, the familiar scent of blood and ointments. He didn't have time to think much on it as an jackal Mutant, whose ears he'd previously shredded, picked up one of the fallen guards' gun. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valour, Knave bolted back up the tunnel to the guard post near the entrance to the dungeons.

* * *

Zanaya's heart was pounding as she slipped into the city tunnel system. The half-breed had detected her somehow. She knew of him, the report on her target had mentioned him in passing, and she hoped that the prisoners would kill him. Any blow against the Icewalkers was welcome. She wondered where Nitro would be at this point, whether it would be wise to try to complete the mission or get space borne. The answer to the latter would depend greatly on the former.

* * *

"Jailbreak! A dozen of them, two armed," Knave panted, his heightened speed allowing him to arrive in seconds flat. The six guards who had been lounging around immediately stood and headed back down the tunnel. The escapees were ready, the two with weapons leapt into the corridor and started firing, wounding one guard in the process. The fight didn't last very long, but it was deadly. In the end five of the prisoners were killed and the rest were wounded. When it was discovered that the assassin was missing, Nitro was informed.

* * *

With his fighter fully charged, Cameo donned his helmet and slipped into the seat. The Psion attack fleet had been spotted leaving their moon and would arrive in an hour or so. "All units, ready for launch," a voice said in his headpiece.

"Affirmative. Cameo ready for launch," he replied.

"All units remain in formation. Follow your squad leader and bring glory to the empire."

Cameo's hands moved across his control panel. Once the ship in front of him started moving towards the gaping maw of the hangar bay he began to move himself. There was a rush of adrenaline pumping through his veins as the small fighter craft roared out through the doors, following the three ships in front of him through the thin atmosphere in to the cold darkness of space. He scarcely heard his leader barking orders to the other ships, focussing on the task at hand. Soon, very soon, there would be the familiar routine of combat. A chance to do his duty and protect his home world. "Cameo, keep on my flank," the squad leader instructed. Cameo affirmed that he'd heard and shook his head to clear it of all thoughts. The only thing that mattered now was victory.

His scanner chirped, indicating that a large number of Psion ships were approaching fast. He counted thirty, maybe thirty-five of the things spiralling closer to his position. He waited, one eye on the squad leader, preparing to move when he moved. Suddenly, though, he didn't feel like doing this anymore. All this fighting was doing was resulting in the deaths of many, there was no point. Besides, he thought, the Psions were the superior fighters, they didn't stand a chance. "No!" he shouted aloud, pinching himself to try and wrench his mind away from the telepath's grasp.

"Easy there," the squad leader's voice came through clearly. "Let's get them back for that dirty trick."

As the lead ship slipped left, Cameo followed suit, picking out the group of Psion ships they were headed for. Other squads were doing likewise, choosing their targets and acting accordingly. Cameo could feel the telepath trying to gain a foothold in his mind again and glowered. "Stop that," he grumbled.

"Why should I?" the telepath's voice rang strong in his head. They were clearly getting closer. "You are inferior to us. You will be destroyed like all of your comrades unless you surrender."

"Never... surrender..." Cameo said, angrily firing his weapons at the closest Psion ship, pleased when it exploded before his eyes, and even more pleased when the probing voice in his head disappeared.

"Cameo. Get back in formation!" the squad leader said, bringing a relieved smile to the pilot. Now that was a voice he hoped wouldn't disappear.

* * *

"Attention all units. Be advised that a dangerous prisoner has escaped the dungeons. She is described as a Psion female who can camouflage. Security measure Alpha-seven-one is in effect," a man's voice said over a radio. Zanaya was passing by a police officer as the report came in and cursed to herself. She had hoped she would have more time to complete her mission. Deciding that she didn't really want to find out what 'security measure Alpha-seven-one' meant, she changed her course and headed for the nearest exit. If she could reach her escape ship, she might be able to slip back to the Psion Moon during the fighting.

* * *

There was a warning beep going off in his ear, but Coldwin couldn't do anything about it. Some damned telekinetic had managed to shut off his engine, leaving him quite helpless until the stupid machine could power up again. In the meantime the telekinetic's partner was barrelling towards him, laser fire searing the hull. He closed his eyes, praying to any gods that were willing to listen that he would get home again, would get to see his wife and kid again. His eyes opened again just in time to see his wing mate destroy the oncoming ship. Shrapnel from the vessel struck his own, and he knew he would have to retreat back to base for repairs.

* * *

With the taste of blood, most of it not his own, still fresh on his lips Knave helped the guards escort the living prisoners back to their cells. There would be an inquiry out of all this. Someone would need to be blamed, and measures put in place to ensure that it didn't happen again. Nitro would probably insist on executing someone, he mused to himself, possibly one of the prisoners though he was just as likely to accuse the doctor and the guards as having been in on the escape. Knave pitied them, they had been following orders after all, and knew they were just doing their jobs. There was no protocol that said a prisoner couldn't be unchained briefly. This one was quick though, and Knave wanted to meet her again.

* * *

Cameo let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Over half the Psion ships were either crippled or destroyed and they were finally turning tail. He did a quick tally of the Icewalker forces and noted that despite greatly outnumbering the Psions, they'd lost roughly the same percentage. He turned his ship around and headed home, dreading the next part.

The disembarking was terrifying. Searching the hangar for familiar faces and realizing that there were fewer of those than when you'd left. How many families would be missing a loved one tonight? It made Cameo want to cry. His eyes noted the two missing ships from his squad of seven. Snowdron and Gustril. The latter had a two year old girl and wife. Both would be devastated. Cameo wasn't sure about Snowdron, he'd always kept to himself. Still, the man had been dependable in a fight, a crack shot. Cameo could remember Snowdron screaming in his headset about being on fire before his communicator went dead. A pyrokinetic then. They were the rarest breed of Psion, but he'd heard rumours of some being active.

His squad leader came over and clapped him on the shoulder, congratulating him on his work out there while offering support. It was hardest on the squad leaders, he'd been told, as they were responsible for the safety of the flight. There would be a debriefing soon, he supposed, and then some rest. His trip to Third Earth would have to wait.

* * *

Thermal scans! Zanaya hissed to herself from the safety of a doorway. At every exit to the city there were a pair of guards with thermal scanners, calibrated to detect non-Icewalker body temperature. A brain she could fool, but not those damned pieces of machinery. Escape would require a little more finesse. The assassin slipped into an abandoned residence and decided to take a quick nap.

* * *

Aristarchus watched his son from a distance, seated in the parlour of his mansion. Kaprenius was only twenty, still quite young by Lunatak standards, and was chatting amiably with a pair of Mutants. "Disgusting creatures," said his companion, standing by the window and following Aristarchus' gaze. The parlour, as was the rest of the estate, was furnished with the finest that money could buy. Sturdy furniture and a thick carpet, woven from the hides of some exotic animal, filled the room.

"They have their uses. Menial labour and cannon fodder mostly," Aristarchus agreed. "The boy seems to think they could serve as allies."

"Allies?" the companion snorted.

"Indeed. I've failed somewhere in his upbringing. Incidentally, news of your defeat arrived on my desk," Aristarchus turned his attention fully on the Psion standing before him. The long flowing robes with distinctive crescent markings indicated he was a priest on his moon. To the Psions there was no greater status, and Mystan was one of the higher ranked priests.

"A trifling setback. Though there are parts of the situation that trouble me, I am not entirely surprised by the results. The Icewalkers are stubborn creatures," he replied.

"Which means that conquering them becomes all the more important if we are to succeed," Aristarchus refilled his glass of water from a nearby pitcher. When Mystan declined more, he resumed. "Luckily they have made their share of enemies. The Darklings will eagerly join us to get revenge on the Icewalkers, and the Gravitons will fall in line once every one else has."

"Which means there is but one small problem," Mystan noted.

"His excellency."

"His excellency. King Tycho."

* * *

Boots flew across the room as Cameo entered his home. It was little more than a small tunnel with a pair of branching caves, but it was cozy enough and it was his own. The debriefing had gone the same way every other debriefing he'd attended had gone. Some high commander telling the pilots what had happened, who had died, and who had achieved the most kills. Cameo had managed two more of his own. Another six and he'd earn a promotion.

Having already had a shower in the public baths, he figured he would fix a quick meal before turning in. He walked across the carpeted floor into the living room/kitchen and inspected his fridge. Very little. Ah well, it was for the best anyway. He would soon be gone for at least a week or two, and didn't want anything spoiling.

A knock on the door startled him. He opened it and found Psikaris standing on the other side. She was a Psion crossed with an Icewalker, and had been his neighbour for as long as he could remember. He'd also developed a bit of a crush on her. "I thought I heard you come home," she said, walking past him into the living room. She settled on one of the three wooden chairs. "How'd the fight go?"

"Not bad, we chased them off. Let me guess, you were confined to your home again?" He resumed his hunt for food, as they talked.

"Got it in one, neighbour. I'm a security threat whenever you fight the Psions. It's silly. I'm not going to betray my people," Psikaris said, stealing some of the food off his plate. There wasn't much that grew on the Ice Moon, but there were plenty of mushroom like plants which were a staple of Icewalker diet. Cameo had found a bowl of the things and some dried meat and had finally taken a seat next to his friend. He reminded himself that he needed to replace the old wooden chairs and buy something a little more comfortable, especially when company was over. Six more kills and he could afford it.

"But the Psions are your people too, or so the logic goes, remember?" Cameo said. This was a familiar conversation. She knew he agreed with her, but they needed to voice it now and then to remind themselves.

"They didn't raise me," Psikaris said, gesturing with a piece mushroom, "which makes me an Icewalker as far as I'm concerned. Keeping a mechanic from her work should count as cruel and unusual punishment."

"Especially when she's one of the best we've got," Cameo added.

"Thanks. Anyway, I'd better head back before Psychro gets the wrong idea. I just wanted to make sure you were alright," Psikaris said, referring to her twin brother. Cameo nodded, knowing full well that her brother would be full of innuendos if she was with him for too long, and a part of him wished that those innuendos were true.

* * *

There was the tiniest sliver of light shining through the dense canopy of trees, a rarity on the Dark Moon. The phenomenon was a minor hassle as it threw off the infrared goggles she was wearing for a moment. She was a young twenty-two years old once more and running through a section of forest with her father, searching for an escape pod that had touched down moments ago. The two were part of a team that patrolled the forests during the daylight hours, searching for any threats to their people, and a Thunderian craft certainly qualified. She'd been on their trail for about five minutes while another group of Darklings was going over the downed ship.

There were four survivors. Two adults, one child, and another that might have been either. They weren't travelling very fast, which led her to believe that they didn't have any kind of infrared goggles themselves. She verified this another two minutes later when she got within a few metres of them.

"Surrender, Thunderians," her father's deep guttural voice said.

"Please. We mean you no harm. We just want to go home," one of them, a male, said.

"Ha, ha, ha! Do you think we care? You are trespassing on Lunatak soil and are our prisoners now. Luna will be most pleased to receive you," Red Eye said.

Shade could see one of the figures trying to stand protectively in front of the other three and guessed this must be a family unit. She slipped quietly behind the group as her father continued talking. Lunataks despised the other races. They weren't too fond of each other, but Luna was a good ruler, able to keep the factions united against common enemies. She placed the muzzle of her pistol against the other adult's head, pleased at the startled cry. "Is this your wife I've got my gun against?" Shade purred softly.

"Tygara?" the man asked, turning around. She knew she had guessed right, his body temperature shot up as the blood flowed quicker through his system.

"It would be a shame if she had to die to prove a point," Shade said, "especially in front of your children."

"Okay, okay. I give up."

* * *

Knave felt the glower of the crowd as he crossed the dingy room to his usual table. The far corner had been nicknamed the 'freak corner' in his honour, as mixed breeds were generally viewed as unclean or something. After the day he'd been having he was hoping for one particular server, the only one who treated him with any kind of courtesy, though he somehow doubted it. It was only his father's last name that kept the other servers from throwing him out.

"What'll it be?" a gruff voice asked, eliciting a sigh from the hybrid. It would have to be Jarel, his self professed 'least favourite fan.'

"Something to drink and whatever's fresh," Knave replied, knowing full well his drink would be spit in and his dinner over done. Jarel did a mock bow and left to fill the order. Idly his mind went over recent events.

It was still hard to fathom that his grandmother could be alive. He'd seen the visual logs from the Excelsior. It had been a mission to recover an artifact of some power, to help the Lunar empire crush the Mutants of Plundarr and take the planet for their own. Members from all five moons had joined the crew of that ship. It was supposed to be Princess Luna's crowning glory, to show what the moons could accomplish when they worked together.

But something had gone wrong, hadn't it? A small shuttle, manned by one person from each moon, including Luna herself, had started towards the surface, investigating a pyramid, if his memory served. Lightning flared around the ship, sending it plummeting to the ground, smashing it into pieces. Lacking another shuttle, the Excelsior could do little from orbit. They returned home, intending to collect a salvage crew to form a search party or, more likely, recover the bodies, but politics got in the way. Blame was thrown around. And war was started.

Knave's food arrived, a plate with a pair of rats stuffed with herbs and spices, surrounded by mushrooms, was dropped unceremoniously at his place. A glass of beer joined it. A quick glance made him suspect that the dishes hadn't been washed from the previous customer. He managed a sarcastic thanks before digging in, the rat making a satisfying crunching noise as he bit into it.

The wanted posters made it clear that the assumptions had been wrong. All six aboard that shuttle had managed to escape and were, apparently, harassing the populace of Third Earth. That much, at least, made sense. Lunataks didn't play well with others, finding means to exploit the weaknesses of others for their advantage. The warrant specified a number of races that had lodged complaints against the Lunataks. Wollos, Berbils, Bulkins, and Thunderians. Knave wondered what kind of fearsome creatures some of those were.

Berbils, at least, he had seen before. A ship from their home world of Ro-Bear had ventured too close to the Ice Moon. The little robotic bears hadn't lasted long in the ensuing fire fight. Scientists on the moon had spent months dissecting the creatures and eventually deemed them worthless.

* * *

Upon returning to his bedroom, after a long meeting, Tycho found Darius pacing back and forth. He was biting his lip and his wings were drooped ever so slightly, which warned the king that Darius was nervous and upset. The changeling's eyes widened when he noticed that he wasn't alone anymore, and stopped his pacing. "Out with it," Tycho said with a sigh, settling himself on a padded chair by his desk. Darius took a deep breath and crossed over to him, he shifted three folders closer to Tycho.

"These," he said, "are your prospective brides. Each carefully selected, their pedigrees thoroughly examined, their political ties and backgrounds are clearly noted. Everything you could possibly want to know about them is there."

"I see," Tycho said, understanding now. They'd been down this road before. The stability of the empire required a clear line of succession. A bride would lead to an heir, and that would aid his standing. Darius, of course, was jealous. He didn't want to share the affections of the king, no matter how much it would benefit the empire. They'd even debated whether Darius would be able to hold a royal female form long enough to carry an infant to term. It had never been tried before, but theoretically it could work. Whether the populace would accept such an heir was debatable. "Do you have a favourite?" he asked, pleased when he caught the changeling off guard.

"What? Well, I suppose they each have their pluses. Raehan Lunar, a fifth cousin twice removed of yours probably has the best blood line. Her family owns the factories that produce engines for our ships. I'm told that she's considered unattractive in most circles. Paracia Elsus is the youngest, but is independently wealthy. Her mother owned several large portions of land that were passed to Paracia when she died. Her great grandfather was a Graviton so that may pose a bit of a problem. Lastly there's Eluosi Brythago. She took up acting a few years ago with limited success, but she's very outgoing and people seem to like her. She's also very out spoken about the war efforts and that may work against you. All in all there isn't a clear front-runner in the group," Darius replied.

"I suppose it doesn't really matter," Tycho said, glancing half-heartedly at the pictures enclosed in each folder. "All she really needs to do is procreate, attend public functions with me, and be able to take care of herself. She'll become an instant target for my enemies, which means yet another Guardian to purchase." The pictures weren't inspiring him at all, nor did their credentials. "I suppose we'll have to arrange meetings with them," he sighed, "see if, by some miracle, there are any sparks." The weariness and reluctance in Tycho's tone echoed Darius' as he agreed to set it up.

* * *

Darkness. It was dark and cold wherever he was. The last thing he remembered was... what? He couldn't remember anything before the now. He was dimly aware of some kind of fluid around him, and a dull ache in his back. He began to think, trying to figure out who he was and where he was. A name surfaced in his mind. Aristarchus. Was it his own? He didn't think it was. There was a sense that whoever this Aristarchus was, he could trust with his life. He would sacrifice his life, though only a few minutes old, for this Aristarchus. Gingerly he tried to move, only to realize that he was in a very small space. A prisoner perhaps? Had someone captured him and erased his mind? There was an apparatus around his mouth, to allow him to breathe he supposed.

The darkness changed suddenly, dramatically, as whatever had been covering his prison was removed. Squinting both through the liquid and the sudden light, he saw the face of his saviour. It was Aristarchus himself, come to his rescue no doubt. There was another with him. A gentleman with short cropped white hair and beady green eyes. A dim memory of these eyes flashed through his brain. He'd seen these eyes before, only they'd been bigger. Staring at him through the bars of a cage. Had this man captured him? If only he could remember more he would be content.

He noticed, then, that the liquid was draining away. He looked down at himself briefly. Pale skin with short matted grey fur. Short claws on his three fingers. And naked, though that didn't bother him, he had the impression that he rarely wore clothes. There was a rush of air as his prison was opened and he could now hear the two men talking clearly.

"I assure you, sir, the disorientation is a common side effect of the process. Come along, step forward, and present yourself to your master," the beady eyed man said.

"I... I am at your service," he replied, carefully taking two steps toward Aristarchus and knelt. This must be his master. That had to be why he felt such a keen sense of loyalty.

"Arise. What is your name?" Aristarchus asked, his eyes examining him closely, watching for some sign of weakness.

"My name, sir? I don't believe I have one."

"Then you shall be called Rodin after the rodent you were created from. What of his abilities? Was the surgery a success?" Aristarchus said, turning to the beady eyed scientist again.

"I believe so. There were a few complications, but he should be able turn himself invisible at will. With practice, he may learn to extend this power to others in close proximity, though I couldn't say for sure. A procedure such as this has never been performed successfully," the man replied.

Rodin didn't understand any of what the two men were talking about, and neither seemed inclined to explain. He wasn't quite sure of things yet, but felt a distrust of the scientist. As though he had been hurt by the man somehow. He'd said something about surgery and complications, so perhaps that explained those feelings. But Aristarchus didn't seem to be resentful of the man, so he had to be okay, didn't he?

"It appears weak," Aristarchus said, interrupting his train of thought. "It seems to lack a killer's instinct."

The scientist flinched at the words. "I did try and warn you. His species is generally a cowardly one and the inherent personalities of the creatures are hard to replace. He should be absolutely loyal to you, and with the proper training he might be turned into a more ruthless fighter."

"If I hadn't invested so much into creating him I would have you terminate him and start over... What is he doing now?" Aristarchus asked, his cold hard eyes watching as Rodin bolted under a table.

"Residual instinct, I suspect. His species lives in caves, so I suppose he sees the table as a safe place," the scientist tried.

Rodin peered nervously out from the shelter, confused by the words. Did they mean that the table wasn't a safe place? Was he displeasing his master by hiding here? It did appear that way. With great willpower he forced himself out and stood once more before his master. He hadn't intended to hide, but the thought of being killed, especially by one he trusted so much, terrified him so. "Come along then. We'll find some use for you yet," Aristarchus said with a sneer.

* * *

It was mid-day in the Psion capital, Zanaya's internal clock said, which meant that it was close to midnight here on the frigid Ice Moon. A pile of refuse masked her location, had anyone with a thermal scanner entered the building, and even if they had she knew that she was a very light sleeper. With night firmly entrenched on the moon, it was relatively safe for her to sneak around and search for another way out. With a mountain complex such as this, she knew, there were bound to be tunnels and cracks that few if anyone knew about. It was simply a matter of finding one.

Her first destination, however, was the hangar. That was the most likely section to have developed cracks near the surface. The vibrations from the machinery, coupled with the heat of the ships, often had that kind of effect on the rocks and ice. If she were fortunate, she might even find a ship ready to depart that she could steal. She was almost there when noise from an establishment caught her attention. A group of men, she could see through the window, were singing a bawdy song, obviously trying to entice a pair of hybrid Lunataks into a fight. She was about to continue on when she realized that one of them was the son of her target; Knave of House Iespyk. If a fight did break out, an 'accident' could occur to him. Quietly she slipped inside the building to watch a bit.

"I met her there one evenin', a knockin' on my door  
Only had one thing to sell, for she was just a whore  
I took her to my room, til she could stand no more  
Then I kicked her out, cause that's what half-breeds're for!"

It was clear that Knave was getting more and more aggravated. A Darkling/Icewalker was desperately trying to urge him to go home, with little effect. Zanaya decided that maybe he needed a prodding in the right direction. Always mindful of where people were in relation to her, so as not to reveal herself, she stepped behind the crowd and selected an unguarded glass that contained the dregs of some pink liquid. Her assassin training guiding her arm, Zanaya launched the glass with pinpoint accuracy, causing it to shatter against the side of Knave's head. As she had hoped, he let out a roar and dove into the crowd, fists and claws flailing.

The great cheer that rose from the assembled crowd changed to one of terror at the sight of the crazed man who was busily attacking anyone foolish enough to get within arm's reach. Many fled for the doors, while others attempted to subdue him. Through it all, Zanaya crept closer, her mind calculating just how to make her attack appear to be an accidental, if lucky, wound. She had just closed the gap between them to several feet when his head jerked in her direction, nose upturned as though scenting the air. A pair of arms tried to grab him while he was thus distracted, but earned a bloodied nose as payment. Knave's eyes scoured Zanaya's position, trying to find her. He broke free from the crowd and lunged at where he thought she was. Startled, Zanaya threw her knife, catching the hybrid in the chest, and bolted.

* * *

The Psion Moon was 85% desert, the rest was composed of water. On the south pole of the moon rested the vast majority of this water. A large lake had been surrounded by the capital city of the Psions. Located on an island in the centre of the lake was the heart of the empire. The holy temple. Seated in the basement were four of the five elders. Watching via a monitor was the fifth, as Mystan was still on the Royal Moon.

In addition to Mystan's report on his progress making an alliance with Aristarchus, others gave varying reports on the war with the Icewalkers, the assassination attempts, the coming harvest, and the latest group of students. When a Psion reached puberty, their dormant powers started to manifest. It was at this time that they were examined by the elders, with the cream of the crop being chosen for higher learning. In this way, the temple always had the most powerful among their number. Every generation, though, there was one student who stood above the others. These were said to have been touched by the gods themselves, blessed to fulfill some sacred purpose. This year there was a powerful pyrokinetic girl whose appearance in the midst of a war against the Icewalkers could not be a co-incidence.

* * *

Lazily Tycho traced his finger along Darius' wing, following no particular pattern. They were soft and warm to the touch, which he found comforting somehow. The changeling had long drifted off to sleep, leaving Tycho alone with his thoughts.

They wouldn't be able to do this, he thought to himself, not as often anyway. For the sake of public perception he and his bride would need to share a room and, every so often, a bed. She would have needs too, ones that he would have to fulfill. Life wasn't very fair. He'd only taken the throne because the only other candidate for it, Aristarchus, didn't have the best interests of the moons at heart.

All he'd really wanted out of life was to be happy, earn a little money, and keep out of the public eye. If he could just live somewhere quiet and out of the way with Darius, life would be perfect. But that wasn't what the people wanted, and that certainly wasn't the life he would have if Aristarchus had his way.

The changeling stirred slightly, nuzzling up against his ward. He looked so peaceful, so relaxed. There would be trials and difficulties ahead, but that seemed to be becoming a daily occurrence. "Sleep soundly my friend," he whispered, "you deserve it."

* * *

The clock on the wall indicated that it was eight in the morning, and it received a baleful glare for waking him. There was nothing for it, though, so Cameo sat up in his bed and stretched his legs. He was feeling old this morning, though he was still considered a young adult by Lunar standards. He would need to let Psikaris know he'd be gone for a while so she wouldn't worry about him. She would fuss at him to be careful, but it was better than taking off without telling her. He'd try and find some ancient piece of machinery as a peace offering. Slipping into his flight suit and double checking his bags by the door, he went out and rapped firmly on the door to her cave.

The door opened a crack and a pair of green eyes stared back at him. "She's not here, Cameo," the owner of the eyes said in a tone that indicated that conversation was not an option here. In the background he could hear multiple sets of giggles, suggesting that Psikaris' brother had female company over.

"Oh. Okay, Psychro. Um, I'll try the hangar or something," he said, turning in that direction. He knew that Psikaris could spend days in the hangar, tinkering with this or that, and that she would often be ordered to go home and rest. Machines were her life, and she couldn't get enough of them. If Psychro had company over, as he often did, that's where she would be.

* * *

Getting into the hangar had been remarkably easy. Whoever had set the thermal scanning device up had done so sloppily, leaving a gap between the scanner and the door jamb. Slipping through the gap would have been impossible for a Graviton, but Zanaya was in peak condition so it proved little hindrance. She had intended to go straight for the main bay doors, to see if there were a way to manually open them, when a fragment of conversation caught her ears.

"...fuelled in a hurry," a man she recognized as Nitro's secretary said to a man who appeared to be in charge of the hangar.

"He expects Captain Havallance to turn the flagship over to his half-breed son? Yeah, that'll go over well," the other man replied.

"I gather he's speaking with the captain now. Enough fuel to get to Third Earth and back, remember," the secretary said, clasping the other's shoulder, "and try to keep the destination quiet. Nitro's orders."

Zanaya watched as the two men parted company, trying to absorb and process what she had just heard. Knave was taking the flagship to Third Earth on a secret mission? That didn't make sense. There was nothing on Third Earth, was there? Either way, her superiors would have to be notified of this event. Sneaking on to the flagship wasn't a problem, it was far too easy to get lost on board the wretched thing, but keeping herself from being detected by that feline would be another matter.

* * *

"Get up," Nitro snapped, looming over his son. He'd received the report on the bar fight and Knave's subsequent injury, and had made it a priority to make sure the whelp wasn't wasting time in the hospital. The doctors had had to do very little work to clean and mend the wound, and were anxious to see him leave. A single look from the head of House Iespyk told the staff to vacate the room so he could speak with the boy.

"Yes sire," Knave replied, giving a mock salute. His muscles were sore in the one arm but he felt fine otherwise.

"I have decided, at great expense, to grant you the use of the Icewalker flagship, the Honour Of The Moon. A hero of Chilla's stature deserves nothing less than the best we can offer. Remember that you are representing me on this mission, as loathe as I am to admit that, so do not screw this up," Nitro stared daggers at his son. This same look could make men quiver, but to Knave it re-enforced his loathing of the man.

"And what of the others? There are wanted posters for the rest of the crew. If they live still?" Knave asked.

"If they live, eliminate the Psion and the Darkling. They could give our enemies an advantage we do not want them to have. Luna may have her uses. She could be a powerful ally to our cause. The Graviton I leave to your discretion," Nitro replied.

* * *

Cameo stood in the hangar bay in confusion. When he'd arrived he had been told that she had hopped aboard a transport ship going to the Dagger Mouth Ridge. If he had known she was headed that way, he would have accompanied her there. There was nothing for it but to hope he ran into her before he left.

* * *

"So this is the famed chairman of the council, eh?" a voice woke Roly Poly from his drunken stupor. The butter flavoured beer had arrived and the council had insisted on sampling it at once. He stared up into the face of a Lunatak from the Royal Moon, his red eyes peering down at him. Behind him stood three simian Mutants from Plundarr. "What a disgusting moon this is, so backwards," the voice went on, "the great pity is that they might serve some use to the empire if we can get them to fall in line." The Royal Lunatak placed one gloved hand around Roly Poly's throat and brought him to his feet.

"What do you want from me?" Roly Poly asked, glancing around and seeing the rest of the council were still passed out from the council meeting.

"What do I want? I want you to keep your mouth shut so that I don't have to smell your breath. It's bad enough that my glove has touched your skin. Now listen closely. When my father makes his move for the throne I want you to throw your support behind him. Once he's been crowned you can come back here and do whatever revolting things you please," he replied. The Lunatak, Kaprenius, was trying to keep this confrontation as short as possible so that he could return home for multiple showers.

"And eef I don't?" Roly Poly asked, regretting the decision as the hand about his throat tightened, Kaprenius' face getting closer.

"If you don't, my friends here will make sure that your last moments alive are very painful," Kaprenius said, causing the simians to begin hooting behind him. "In fact, boys, why don't we demonstrate. Make sure he's alive, but otherwise have fun." Kaprenius discarded his sullied glove and left, choosing not to be witness of the upcoming carnage.

* * *

He supposed that Paracia would be considered attractive by most people's standards, that her horns were slightly longer than a typical Royal Lunatak's could be attributed to her Graviton heritage. She was terribly excitable and he suspected that she hadn't fully considered the ramifications of being his consort. Visions of her spending the empire's fortune on herself came to mind, though he had to remind himself that she had managed to maintain her fortune thus far. She had chosen for this occasion a lime green dress with a neckline that plunged far enough that he could almost see her waist, this was accentuated with a yellow pendant that dangled from around her neck.

He and Darius had decided that the first round of interviews should be held in the public eye, so that people could see that he was taking his position seriously. A popular, if expensive, restaurant had been selected for an early lunch. An artificial river dotted with fish wove its way through the seating area, making it more difficult for the waiters to serve them. However, the food was excellent.

"You look deep in thought, I'm not boring you, am I?" she asked, her face looking alarmed. Tycho was startled by the comment. He had thought he was paying attention to the woman, but obviously he hadn't.

"I'm sorry. I just... I just never wanted to enter a relationship like this," he said, uncertain as to how much of his personal life to divulge, though most of it was rumoured anyway. "I don't want to get married for the sake of getting married. It's not you at all, you're a very beautiful woman, it's the situation on the whole."

"Oh!" she said, perking up. "I understand that perfectly. My mom, she was always telling me to grow up, find a nice young man to settle down with, grow the company, raise some kids. And I'm all like, 'Mom, relax, I just need a little fun in my life', y'know? There's just no pleasing people. I mean, if we did get married we'd make sure to have some fun, right? Let's face it, the last couple of years have been all doom and gloom. Kings and queens dying. Revolutions. Assassinations. There's no fun in all of that. People need a break from all of it. They need to lighten up."

"Absolutely," Tycho said, though in his mind he rolled his eyes. Gods, she was naive. "But it's all about the balance. There needs to be time for relaxation and 'fun', as you call it, but there also needs to be a time when we knuckle down and make the tough decisions. Do you think you'd be able to do that? Send people to their death for the betterment of all? I've done that and it's not easy."

"You have? Gosh, I didn't know that. Wow, I guess it's pretty tough being king, huh?" Paracia said. Tycho nodded, knowing how big an understatement that truly was.

* * *

Knave tapped his foot impatiently while he waited for everyone to be onboard the Honour of the Moon. He'd met briefly with the captain, a man who'd made it clear that Knave's presence was unwelcome and that any time he'd like to drop dead would be appreciated. He'd seen engineers, security staff, pilots, and medical personnel go by his post near the entrance with no sign yet of Cameo. If he was trying to back out of this mission he would regret it. Finally, with only a few minutes before take off, he arrived, slugging two bags over his shoulder. "Sorry 'bout that. I was trying to find someone before I left," he said, saluting the captain.

"As long as you're here," Knave replied, "follow me. They stuck us in the same room, near the engine room with another half-breed. It's really a glorified closet. I don't know how they expect the three of us to share it."

"Keeping all the hybrids together as far from the rest of the crew as possible, eh?" Cameo sighed at the predictable rooming conditions. As good a pilot as he was he was never able to shake his heritage.

"Big surprise, eh... wait. You? You're a half-breed?" Knave asked, surprised, leading the way through a hall and down a flight of stairs.

"It's not very visible, I know. Wait, you didn't know? My mother had been visiting another planet, called Solaris, and discovered the hard way that our races are compatible. I assumed you'd done a background check."

"I did. It didn't mention anything about your father. Anyway, here we are. 33b. I already claimed the top bunk. Psikaris took the bottom on the other side," he said, gesturing at the two bunk beds that had been crammed in a small space. A table sat at the back of the room with a stool tucked under it.

"Did you say Psikaris? 'Karis is here, rooming with us?" Cameo asked, stunned.

"You know her?"

"Know her? I'm her neighbour, she's the one I was looking for. Now it all makes sense. Hnh. That's going to make this a little more pleasant, I suppose."

"Just don't do any funny business while I'm around," Knave said, looking up as the nearby engines revved up. "Looks like we're getting to take off. I'm going to the bridge to watch. You coming?"

"No thanks. I'll stay here," Cameo said. Knave shrugged and headed on up. He wanted to say goodbye to his home just in case they never came back. He shuddered at the very real possibility.

* * *

Cameo shuddered. Karis was going to be here. His Karis. The same one he'd had a crush on for years. That Karis was going to be only an arm's length away. He'd often spent nights dreaming of a situation like this, only a second man had never appeared in any of those fantasies, nor a second woman for that matter. But how did she feel about him? He couldn't say for sure. Was he just a friend to her? Did she see something more in him? And could that happen here on this voyage?

He busied himself setting his possessions on the bunk below Knave's, his heart hammering away in his chest as it ached for Psikaris' affection. He glanced over at the bunk where her suitcase lay. He wasn't aware that he had flicked the latch on it until it was opening, her womanly scent wafting up from the bundle of clothes inside. Hastily he closed it again, hoping she wouldn't notice the disturbance, and forced himself to focus on something else, anything else.

The ship layout! The captain had provided him with an information package including that, he should familiarize himself with it in case he needed to go to any of the vital areas. There were three levels to the ship; near the rear was the engine room, which took up two floors on its own, and a hangar with two fighter crafts and a minimally armed shuttle. The second floor was devoted mostly to the crew quarters and mess hall, the third to a medical bay and cargo, while the top floor housed the quarters for the higher ranked officers and weapons systems. In the front of the ship was the command hub.

* * *

There was a bustle of activity in the crowded command centre as Knave walked through the doors. Even though the ship was practically House Iespyk property, he'd never been on it, so he didn't know what to expect. Three stations in a semi-circle were at the front with a captain's chair behind them.

On the right hand side a woman in a short white skirt was speaking into a headset, indicating that she was the communications expert. She was busily getting clearance from the hangar bay for take off. To her left was the pilot, awaiting confirmation from both the woman and his captain. Beside him was the weapons officer, who doubled in non-combat situations as a second set of eyes on the scanners.

Then there was the captain, cool, calm and collected. He wore a crisply cleaned uniform of white with a streak of red at the shoulder to indicate rank. His eyes meticulously flicked from one position to another, searching for any dereliction of duty. He was known to keep a tight ship, and only the finest kept their positions.

Standing by his side was his bodyguard slash head of security Krystalin. She was infamous throughout the empire. Seeing the success of the Guardian program by the Royal Lunataks, the Icewalkers had attempted their own genetic engineering program. Of the dozen attempts, Krystalin was the sole survivor. Her blood ran super cold but never froze for reasons the scientists could not figure out. A touch from her bare skin could cause the body to go into shock, and could even kill if held long enough. Even the moisture in the air froze when it came in contact with her, granting her an almost permanent armour of ice. She wore a pair of elbow length gloves, thick boots, and a thin body suit that allowed the armour to form while granting her some modesty. The woman snorted when she spied him enter and informed Captain Havallance.

"I don't allow your kind in here," he said, scowling.

"My kind?" Knave's hand clenched in a fist. "My father..."

The captain interrupted before he could say any more. "Your father is not here. My orders are to get you and your friend to Third Earth. Nothing more. I'm not required to deal with you in any capacity other than making sure your sorry hide is on that shuttle."

"You dare speak to me like that?" Knave asked, consciously aware that Krystalin was removing a glove from her hand. "When my father finds out about this..."

"He won't care about you or your feelings. I want you to understand me clearly. Your father gave me explicit instructions that he would be most pleased if you were to not return home. He's not going to be your saviour here, boy. The only shame will be if someone else gets to kill you first," Havallance said. He still hadn't moved from his chair, but Krystalin had moved a lot closer, standing within two feet of him, eyes boring into his skull. Knave could feel the air he was breathing grow very cold, making each breath just a little more painful. He knew he wasn't going to win this fight so he backed up and left.


	2. Chapter 2

Heritage of the Lunatak Empire by Jonathan J. Prideaux  
Chapter 2

On the Dark Moon, Shade's damaged mind was recalling a different launch almost a hundred years before. There was excitement in the air as dignitaries, specialists and many soldiers filed on to the Excelsior. They were travelling across the reaches of space, searching for a magical item that would bring power back to the royal family. Shade especially was excited; she had always wanted to meet Luna, princess to the throne of the Lunataks, and now she was getting that chance. A big banquet was being held in the mess hall and Luna had insisted that two members from each moon sit at the head table with her to discuss the mission. She and her father had been chosen to represent the Darklings.

She remembered the others well. Seated on one side of the queen were the Gravitons; an historian named Sky Pie, and a politician named Oil Doily. Beside them, much to their chagrin, were the Darklings. On the other side of Luna were the Psions, Psindis and Toran, a high ranking priest and his prize pupil. Then there were the representatives of the Icewalkers, the warrior couple Chilla and Ren. In the latter's lap was their young child, whose name she hadn't caught.

The ship lurched forward and everyone cheered, knowing it meant they were on their way. "Ladies and gentlemen! I'm not one for speeches, so with the launch of the Excelsior, I say let the food be served!" Luna said, her voice rising above the conversation, not a difficult task given its pitch. A second cheer rose at the statement.

Dinner was every bit the lavish affair Shade expected, with foods from each of the moons provided. There was a poorly done comedy routine to entertain the guests, though most of them were focussed on the conversations and political manoeuvring going on. Shade found herself pretending to be listening to a history of the Graviton mining expedition that had discovered gravitanium, the metal that they used as body armour. It was a boring lecture and she filed it away in case she had trouble sleeping later that night.

The remainder of the conversation largely centred on what little information there was of Third Earth and its inhabitants. Shade had seen the head of a Berbil once at the national museum, and seen a crude drawing of what Mumm-Rana looked like. The unspoken question, as no one dared angering Luna, was whether they would be able to get the belt back at all. Would the Lunar way of taking things by force work in this circumstance? Without any real knowledge of Mumm-Rana and her abilities it was hard to guess, though Shade would wager it unlikely.

* * *

There was a low rumbling noise from within the government pub. Only moments ago paramedics had arrived and taken away head council member Roly Poly, leaving Pop Stop temporarily in charge. The rest of the council had been revived and assembled for an emergency session, the matter of which was so dire that the taps had been shut off. One meaty fist crashed against a table, sending an empty of bowl flying. "This ees outrageous! Aristarchus must be held accountable!" the member said angrily.

"Maybe we should do as they say," another timidly suggested.

"Maybe you should shut up!" the first one snapped. "Eef we do as they say this time, what's to stop them from making more demands? Eef anything, we should ally with Tycho."

"I don't care who we side with, as long as Aristarchus pays for this," a third voice said over the fighting.

The conversation grew louder, each voice trying to outdo the others. Finally Pop Stop had enough. "I say we put eet to a vote! All een favour of siding with Aristarchus say 'aye.'"

"Aye!" a few people shouted.

"All een favour of siding with Tycho?"

"Aye!" the crowd roared.

"I thought so. Send word to the king. We mobilize tonight!"

* * *

Tycho's wearied sigh spoke volumes as he returned to his room. Darius was laying on his stomach on the bed reading some documentation, he looked up on the king's entrance. "That bad?" he asked, his voice containing a hint of hope.

"Very much so," Tycho replied. "When you indicated that Raehan was unattractive, you were vastly understating the truth. She looks as though she builds our ships by hammering things into place with her face. She also loves her work, in fact I don't think she's capable of talking about anything but her work. I know more about space travel and its effects on the body than I ever wanted to know."

"So we're oh for two," Darius said.

"At the rate I'm rejecting them there won't be a woman left on the planet to marry. What's left on my agenda for today?" Tycho asked.

"Politics, of course. There's a message waiting for you from the Gravitons and your teleconference with Nitro Iespyk in about an hour. I'll go fix you some tea while you peruse the Graviton message."

"Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you Darius," Tycho said, kissing the other's forehead.

"You'd be lost, let's face it. I make your world go round," Darius teased, leaving the king to his own devices while he went down to the kitchen.

* * *

The Honour of the Moon was quiet, Zanaya noted as she prowled the halls. Everyone was where they needed to be, either on duty or in their rooms. Conversation was at a minimum and, aggravatingly, no one seemed to know why they were headed to Third Earth. The captain knew, obviously, and she suspected that Knave knew or at least that he was involved in it somehow. She couldn't get near him, though, to find out because he could somehow pick up her scent.

Passing the medical bay she wondered if it would be worth her while to perform sabotage, and whether she could pin it on Knave. She'd been on the bridge during the brief exchange between him and the captain and suspected that she could orchestrate his death if need be. Or would killing the captain be more in line? She also, it occurred to her, had to find a safe place to hide when she needed to rest. The bridge was fine for when she was awake, but it was likely she would be trodden on if she fell asleep there.

Her travelling took her to the command quarters where one room was devoid of inhabitants but lavishly arranged. This was curious and piqued Zanaya's interest. Were they rendezvousing with someone? An ally perhaps? Whatever the case, this room would be perfect for herself. She decided to take a brief nap here.

* * *

Foolishly, perhaps, Cameo walked into the engine room. He hadn't intended to go looking for Psikaris, but here he was, and there she was, covered in dust peering up from under a console at another Lunatak. "Try it now!" she called out as the other tapped a few buttons. The man shook his head at her and she slipped back under. "It's got to be one of these connectors," Cameo heard her grumble, "something's just come loose. Wait a minute, I think I... yeah, we got a frayed wire tucked in the back here. Should just take a second to replace and... There. It working yet?"

"Well done!" the other engineer said. "I've got power levels right where I need them. Thanks for the help... Oh! Can I help you sir?"

It took Cameo a few seconds to realize he was being talked to and tear his eyes away from Psikaris, while she worked on replacing the panel she'd removed. "Oh, um, yeah. I just came to see..."

"Cameo!" Psikaris exclaimed, standing and hugging him.

"Actually, I'm Cameo," he said weakly, "I came to say hi to you. You got a minute?"

"I don't know, do I?" she turned to the other engineer who merely waved them away. "I'd meant to tell you I was coming on this trip," she said as the two of them left the engine room and turned to the relative privacy of their quarters. "As soon as I saw there was an opening for an engineer on the flagship, I had to snatch it up. I'm lucky I remembered to pack, if you want the truth."

"That doesn't surprise me at all. A chance like this doesn't happen every day," Cameo said, taking her hands in his. "It's amazing just being with you, here. Working together, I mean," he instantly cursed himself for saying the words and also for not saying others. If she noticed, she didn't show it.

"How many years have we been working out of the same hangar, and I haven't even cleaned your windows," she smirked. "You have any idea what we're doing here? All I've heard is that we're going to Third Earth."

"Oh Karis, I want to tell you, but it's classified. Even the captain barely knows all the details. There's... there's something else I want to tell you..." Cameo said, struggling to make the words go from his brain to his lips. It was like wading through tar, and he was just about to confess his love when the door hissed open and Knave stomped in, face full of rage.

"Fun time's over. You can make out with your girlfriend later," Knave said, climbing the ladder to his bunk. He drew back the curtain and began rummaging through his bag.

"Girlfriend?" Psikaris said, startled. "It's not like that between Cameo and I. We're just friends catching up. What's eating you?"

"I'm busy coming up with painful ways to kill captain Havallance. I've got thirty four so far," he replied.

"What a horrible thought," she gasped. "Look, Cameo, we'll catch up later when Prince Charming isn't around."

Cameo nodded weakly and watched her leave, his heart aching at her words. Just friends. She had used the two most dreaded words. He had been so close to pouring his heart out to her, and she had stopped him in his tracks. But maybe it was because she didn't know how he felt. Maybe she felt that things could progress between them. She would, too, if it wasn't for Knave. He rose up on his feet and faced his fellow hybrid. "I don't care how you treat me," he snarled, "but that woman deserves better than that."

Knave hopped down to the floor, his fists clenched. "You're bossing me around? Don't forget your place. I may not be allowed to hit captain Havallance, but I can beat the snot out of you to remind you whose family is House Iespyk."

"Fight you? I'm not going to fight someone I have to share close quarters with for the next two weeks. When we get home, if you still want to go I'll go. And I'll teach you that rank means nothing in a fight," Cameo replied, leaving to try and catch up to Psikaris.

* * *

"My son did what?" Aristarchus snapped, glaring harshly at the monitor in front of him, noting the wince of the man on the other end. The question was rhetorical, he had heard every word that was said, and none of it pleased him in the least. The brash young man had ruined everything, all his carefully made plans would have to be advanced. Aristarchus cursed the woman that had given birth to such an insolent pest, in fact he fully intended to do so the next time he saw her. His angry gaze turned back to the Lunatak on his screen. "Inform Kaprenius that when he returns to the moon he is to see me at once and that anything other than an apology from him will be fatal." The man gulped hard and closed the transmission.

This was the last thing he needed. Timing was everything in the game of politics, and an act like this could be dangerous. He could already imagine the reaction of the Graviton people. Sure they seemed lazy and harmless, but when they were motivated they were a group not to be messed with. Aristarchus had even heard rumours of a super weapon they had been developing. One which could reduce a planet's mass and send it hurtling towards the nearest heavenly body. A weapon like that could win the war. But now? Now it may have been given to Tycho. Things would definitely have to move up.

He turned on his monitor again and summoned his aides. After briefing them on the situation he addressed each one in turn. "You, contact Mystan on the Psion Moon. Tell him everything and that phase three will be in effect as soon as he can arrive with his men. You, contact Stalker on the Darkling moon. Tell him to eliminate any incoming fleets from either the Gravitons or the Icewalkers. She will be rewarded for her efforts. And Rodin, make yourself useful. Go to Tycho's quarters, use your invisibility powers and inform me of any and all comings and goings. Understood?" The three bowed as their turns came and scurried off to carry out their orders.

* * *

Nitro's visage appeared on the monitor right on schedule, for which Tycho was grateful. The Icewalkers were punctual, if nothing else. "With your permission, let's skip the formalities. I'm sure your agents have heard of the attack on the Graviton council?" he asked.

"They have. A most distasteful display of force," Nitro replied. The report had arrived moments before. "What do you intend to do about it?"

"I have spoken with their leaders. Begged them to hold off retaliation until I could speak with you. We don't have much time, they are rightfully angry." Tycho remembered the conversation vividly, it had been tricky to get even that much out of them.

"We?" Nitro inquired.

"Yes. We." Tycho hated politics and negotiations. Tycho knew that he needed the Icewalkers on his side, and Nitro knew that Tycho knew that. Though they were a people who did things for honour, they also were Lunataks, which meant they had the characteristic mercantile streak running through them. "I appeal to you and your people to help the throne in this our hour of need. I've heard rumblings that Aristarchus has the ear of the Psions and the Darklings, but I would rather have the support of the most powerful of the moons. With your might combined with the Gravitons tenacity and my own people's army we should be able to easily rout the forces of Aristarchus. Your help will not be forgotten or ignored, I can assure you. You have but to name your price."

The king knew what was coming. He knew Nitro's character and the reputation of his people in war. "I would suspect that many of the rebellion's leaders have committed crimes against the Ice Moon. In addition to some financial considerations and resources we insist on prosecuting them," Nitro said with a gleam in his eye that Tycho knew meant that he hoped the Darkling responsible for his son's execution would be among them.

"I will grant you jurisdiction over any Psion and Darkling leaders that we may capture. The people of my own moon, especially Aristarchus, are mine to judge. I have already granted the Gravitons permission to take custody of Kaprenius for his actions against them. I also require that I be allowed to attend or send a representative to any trial you hold to ensure that they are conducted properly," Tycho said. He and Darius had been over this part of the negotiation.

"Of course. You are the king, you are entitled to be anywhere you please," Nitro said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Then we are agreed. Have your people here in the morning and we can deal with any threats from there. I will inform the Gravitons of the situation."

"Good day then to you. Sleep well," Nitro said, ending the transmission.

* * *

When Cameo caught up to Psikaris she had delved back into her work, hunched over a console making sure it was working properly. As usual she was so engrossed in her work that she wasn't aware of his presence until he spoke. She jumped at the sound of her name, causing her clipboard to fall from her hands. Hurriedly Cameo stooped to pick it up for her. "Sorry for startling you. I just wanted to apologize for Knave. Once you get through that tough exterior he's really not that bad," he said, his hand touching hers for a scant second as he returned the clipboard. "Though that sounds like what he wants to do to the Captain, get through the exterior to see what's inside. Sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

The woman sighed and patted his shoulder. "Don't worry about it. I work around engineers all day, I deal with guys like him all the time. Just be careful," she said.

"I will. I promise. Look, I know you're busy and all, but would you like to grab some dinner together later?" Cameo asked, hoping he could express himself better over a full stomach and with less distractions going on.

"Sure. I'd like that. Just come and get me whenever you're hungry," she replied, turning back to her work.

* * *

"Awaken him," Darius said firmly. Leaving Tycho to deal with Nitro, he had decided to head down to the genetic engineering lab and wake the panther hybrid. Events were speeding to an inevitable confrontation and any extra allies he could obtain could tip the balance in Tycho's favour.

He had found the scientist Erdwin putting his notes in a locked vault, presumably before heading to bed. The man was less than thrilled to see Darius at such an hour. "I really don't advise that, uh, Darius sir. A little more time and I can iron out the wrinkles, maybe in the morning?" he asked, hopefully.

Darius' body grew in size, his eyes turning a deep red as long claws extended from his fingers. "Now," he said, his voice a deep growl. Every action was carefully planned to give the man the indication that there was no other option.

"Of course. The wrinkles are only small ones, easily corrected once the subject is awake. Ehm, right this way then," the scientist shuffled over to the tank, nervously glancing over his shoulder. Erdwin was quite relieved that Darius had resumed his normal form. The scientist removed the cover from the containment tank and began manipulating the controls. He gave the changeling one final look before draining the fluid from the chamber.

Memories of his own awakening flooded through Darius' brain as he watched the panther. He remembered how confusing it was, waking up in a strange place with so many strange faces. There had been people he knew, though he couldn't place how, and things he knew about though he couldn't remember ever having done them before. The voice of Tycho's mother, Platia, had been soothing, coaxing him out of the capsule. He'd seen her infant son and felt a kinship then and there. Darius often wondered if their being so close in age, relatively, had helped their bond.

For a moment the panther lay still, eyes shut, to the point that Darius wondered if something had gone horribly wrong. Then he saw it, a hint of movement on the man's face, a twitch of the lip. Eyes opened and frantically looked around. Darius tried to appear as non-threatening and friendly as possible which seemed to help a bit. "I imprinted your face in him too, I thought that might be useful," Erdwin said, trying to please. Darius nodded absently but held a hand out for the panther to take.

"Dar... Darius?" the panther asked, sounding as though he were trying his vocal chords for the first time.

"That's right," he replied, "I'm Darius. I'm a friend of yours. I know this all seems a little scary and unfamiliar, but you can trust me." The panther's hand tentatively reached out from the capsule to touch Darius' own. His eyes were wide and flicked around the room taking it all in. Darius wondered if he'd looked that scared too. "Do you have a name?"

"A name?" the panther asked, finally stepping from the tank. "I think it is Panthis, I'm not sure. Why is it so familiar?"

"Typical Thunderian name," Darius thought to himself, "how unimaginative." He tried to put a positive spin on the whole process to the man, though it was difficult to account for his capture from a Thunderian escape pod and their subsequent brain washing. But he deserved to know the truth, it would come out anyway, better he hear it now than later. He also, as they headed to Tycho's quarters, tried to explain a bit about the current situation and the world that Panthis was walking into.

* * *

Coldwin listened intently to the mission briefing. His flight would be the second wave headed to the Royal Moon, rendezvousing along the way with a Graviton attack force. He'd never seen the rotund people in combat but had heard tales. They were fearless, fortifying their nerves with alcohol, and would fight to the death when riled. Over the years they had perfected the gravity carbine, a device capable of increasing or decreasing the weight of an object, and reduced it in size to fit on a ship. When used on enemy fighters it could be enough to make them crash together.

The only expected resistence was the possibility of Aristarchus' forces. He was rumoured to have Plundarrian Mutants at his side. Their ships were heavily armoured but slow and difficult to manoeuver. The Psions were likely to be met closer to the Royal Moon and were smaller in number, still licking their wounds from the last battle.

Then there was the wild card. The Darklings. It was rumoured that they were siding with Aristarchus, but no one knew for sure. They were a secretive people, and difficult to meet in combat. Their ships were painted jet black, the windows tinted likewise. There weren't even any lights inside the cockpit, the pilots relying on heated controls seen through infrared goggles. For all intents and purposes, against the black backdrop of space, they were invisible. The easiest way to combat them was to try and get them against a moon. To make matters worse, they could create patches of darkness to throw off their assailants. If they didn't appear on scanners they would be impossible to fight.

The flight commander went over the flight route one more time and gave them an hour to get ready. Coldwin rushed to his locker to fetch his good luck charms and went to the flight deck.

* * *

Tycho had fallen asleep by the time Panthis and Darius arrived at the royal quarters. Since the apartments consisted of a number of rooms accessible through a single entrance, Darius was able to quietly lead the panther around, showing him where things were. There was a small kitchenette, a private dining room, a collection of bedrooms, and a library. Panthis seemed to take everything in with wide-eyed wonder, absorbing all the information that Darius was feeding into him, it made him wonder if he wasn't overwhelming the new Guardian.

Darius finished the tour at one of the bedrooms, wanting desperately to check in on Tycho before he himself retired. "This is your room," he explained. "You can do as you please in here with absolute confidence that no one will ever enter it without your permission. Remain vigilant and sleep well."

"I will remain awake and stand guard, as is my duty," Panthis stated firmly.

"Whatever you want," Darius shrugged. "You know where I am if you need me." The panther saluted, an action that Darius returned, and stood near the main door.

Darius sighed again and headed to peek in on Tycho. He hoped that the Thunderian would relax a bit as he became accustomed to his surroundings, he'd been overeager to please back then too. Tycho was spread eagled on top of his bed, having been too exhausted to even change out of his formal clothes. Darius made a mental note to chastise him for his carelessness later. Seeing that everything else was in order, and having a reasonable amount of confidence in the self-appointed guard, Darius went to his own bedroom and locked the door. Soon he was fast asleep, dreaming vague memories of his former life, scampering through fields, hunting for food and evading predators. A part of his mind pointed out that his current life wasn't all that much different.

* * *

The screen before Coldwin dictated any possible piece of information that he could ever want. His position, his trajectory, his speed, where his wing mates were in relation to him, how much fuel and laser power he had, he half expected it to spit out the latest sports scores. The flight to the Royal Moon would take several hours, looping over the planet Plundarr rather than going around it. The Gravitons would be meeting them en route.

He looked at the picture of his wife and son again, wishing that he didn't have to leave them again so soon but understanding why. The political situation was beginning to reach a boil and it was crucial to pick sides. Tycho, he felt, was too weak for the job but he did his best and led with his heart. Aristarchus was a worm, a slimy creature that was better off being smeared into the ground.

His thoughts were jerked back to reality as his radar began chirping followed immediately by his squad commander. Three large Plundarrian warships were rising through the atmosphere and would soon be upon them. They were big and bulky, but any pilot could fly circles around them with relative ease. "Flight plan 17," the commander's voice said, showing no trace of concern. "Stick to the plan and we'll be on the Royal Moon in time for breakfast."

Coldwin confirmed that he had heard, along with the others in his flight, and plotted out the intercept position. As the hulking craft slid through the smog filled cloud cover of the planet below he watched his wing mates likewise moving into position. Each ship was spaced far enough apart that the enemy couldn't just fire randomly and hit something, and close enough to provide support should the Mutants have smaller fighters.

The three warships paused at the very edge of the atmosphere, lingering long enough for them to take stock of the Icewalker force poised to attack. Then their large cannons opened fire, coming very close to hitting the evading fighter craft. Coldwin followed his squad leader in the assigned formation, sliding to either side as needed when the massive guns were pointed in his direction.

"Enemy craft behind us!" a panicked voice crackled over the intercom, startling Coldwin mid move. "Darklings!"

"Squadrons five through fifteen. Take care of the Darklings, but watch your backs. The rest, continue on the warships. Someone get the Gravitons on the horn and tell them we need back-up!" the main commander's voice barked.

Coldwin snarled, as the Darkling fighters slowly entered the radar screen. They'd been set up! And if the Gravitons didn't get there soon they would be avenging rather than assisting. His squad wheeled closer to the nearer warship, strafing the side of it and then spinning away. His screen indicated that the ship's guns had destroyed a pair of his friends while sustaining minimal damage.

* * *

"The Icewalkers need us!" Roly Poly said over the intercom. His people preferred to use larger crafts, each holding a half dozen Gravitons at a time, and were heavily armed. He turned to the video screen in front of him that showed the faces of four other ship captains.

"Who cares?" one of them said, a relatively skinny gentleman named Knock Rock.

"He's right," a woman replied, "Our issue ees with the Royals."

"They are our allies. Duty says we help them," another male said.

"I agree. We tried to stay neutral, but Kaprenius made us side against his father. That means we hurt his allies and help ours," the fourth said.

"Two to two. Looks like I get the final vote. The Mutants tried to make an example out of me. I say we make an example of them. All Graviton ships, intercept the Darklings and the Mutants!"

* * *

A warning bell was sounding in Coldwin's ears, informing him that his right gun had been damaged. He promptly ignored the bell and focussed on the task at hand. One of the hulking warships had been badly damaged and was hurriedly evacuating its occupants. Somewhere, he knew, a self destruct code would be implemented, otherwise they risked wiping out a city in the ensuing crash. Coldwin pulled back on the controls, putting distance between himself and the coming explosion.

His radar told him what he already suspected, the Icewalkers were absorbing heavy losses while the Mutants and Darklings were still going strong. Although they had been fighting for almost half an hour, it felt like an eternity had gone by.

A third of his squad, a quick glance told him, had perished already and Darkling fighters were slipping through and picking off helpless ships from the rear. Turning to face them didn't help, either, as that then left them vulnerable to the cannons from the Mutants.

"The Gravitons are coming. All units regroup at the following co-ordinates, we'll meet up with them there. It looks like we aren't all going to die today after all," the main squad commander announced.

* * *

With the arrival of Graviton reinforcements the Mutants decided to retreat, allowing the remaining Icewalker fighters and their allies to focus their attack on the Darklings. The latter fought valiantly, killing a number of opposing craft before being forced to acknowledge that they were outnumbered and running.

As the last of the threat fled, Coldwin allowed his hands to loosen their viselike grip on the control stick and exhaled deeply. He could hardly believe how fortunate they'd been that the Gravitons had been so close when the ambush had been sprung. Numerous times he'd felt certain that he was going to be sent to the bar in the sky, where all good dead pilots sat around trading stories. A call came over his headset, instructing his flight to fall in line with another and resume course for the Royal Moon.

* * *

Tearing Psikaris away from her work wasn't easy, as some of it was portable. Cameo had suggested she find them a seat while he got their food and was only mildly surprised when he saw her pull out a technical manual and sit at a table in the corner.

The food in the cafeteria consisted of three choices. There was a simple, but nutritious meal that consisted today of soup and a piece of bread. This meal was free of charge. For a little extra money one could upgrade this meal and receive some stew and an extra piece of bread. For the wealthy, and the higher ranking officers, there were delicacies that Cameo could only dream of ever having. The lineup wasn't too bad, it still being a little early, so he didn't have to wait long to get served.

"What do you want?" The cook asked, his face betraying a look of disgust at having to feed the likes of Cameo.

"I'd like two of the stew meals please," he said, presenting his and Psikaris' meal cards.

"Of course. Sir," the cook snorted, reaching for his utensils and doling out small portions of the stew into bowls.

"Hey Eratma! You ought to be nice to this guy, do you know who he is?" a voice behind him shouted to the cook. Cameo glanced back and saw a fellow pilot who had been nicknamed 'Zero' because he'd never been shot down. "This is Cameo, he's the one who saved this very ship last year against the Control Force. Remember that? If it wasn't for this guy, you'd probably be in a Control prison somewhere."

Cameo chuckled slightly. It was an exaggeration, but then Zero was known for such. The flagship had been surrounded by Control ships outside the Plundarrian system and Cameo's patrol had happened to be nearby. Of the five members in the patrol he'd been one of two to survive until back-up got there. He'd heard his name had made it on to Control's twenty most wanted list.

"Sure he is. He's also a half-breed, so why're you sticking up for him. You know his kind only dilutes the bloodlines. His other half ain't even Lunar," the cook said, grudgingly topping up the bowls regardless.

"I'm not too clear on biology and crap like that, but I know the people I want watching my back in a firefight, and this here is one of them," Zero said, slinging his arm around Cameo's shoulders and tussling his hair.

"Now, now, Zero. No need to make a fuss over me," Cameo said, gracefully taking his tray and paying his bill. Only in the pilot fraternity, he thought wryly to himself. These were men and women to whom trust was everything, and they stood up for one another. Often, it was said, they were closer than any two people could be. Closer than family and closer than lovers. Which reminded him that there was a woman waiting for him. He wove his way around the tables until he reached the one she was seated at, making notes as she flipped through the manual. He set the food in front of them and returned her card. "So, what're you reading?" he asked, to delay revealing his feelings.

"I'm trying to learn the engine," she muttered, distractedly taking a spoonful of stew. "In case we need to boost the weapon systems I should reroute some of the life support systems through this junction, being careful not to overload them, which means keeping an eye on this gauge."

"Yeah, well, just make sure you don't lower the life support too much. We might need that. Then again, if we're in that kind of situation it might be a case of losing life support or death, eh?" he joked, feeling as though he needed some life support himself.

"I suppose so," she replied, not tearing her eyes away from the page.

"Look, 'Karis, I need to ask you something. We've known each other for years, right?" she gave an affirmative grunt, finally shutting the manual on her notepad and looking up at him. "And, well, I really care about you and I hope you do too. Care about me I mean, not about you, not that you shouldn't care about you I mean. I guess what I'm saying is that I think we should go out."

"We are out," she replied as the meaning of his words hit her like a ton of bricks. "Oh, you mean 'out' out. More out. Look, Cameo, you're right. I care about you, but I'm hardly what you'd consider girlfriend material. I'm independent, need plenty of space to myself, and you will always rank second to my work."

"I'm not your brother," Cameo said, wrestling with the feeling that she had removed his heart from his chest and was crushing it in her hands. "I know who you are, we grew up together, remember? I know your personality, your likes and dislikes, and I wouldn't change anything about you. You're the most beautiful woman I know and you're probably the smartest one too."

"I just think you'd be better off asking someone else," she sighed. "You need someone that can better appreciate..."

"Don't talk yourself down, let me be the judge of what's right for me. The question is, am I the right person for you. I will cherish you, be there when you need me, and respect you when you need alone time. Trust me, I love you," he said.

Her eyes met his, staring intensely at him. Every second before she spoke seemed to take hours, his palms felt sweaty and his heart rate was through the roof. He hated the anticipation that came with a scenario like this. Finally her head drooped and shook slightly. "I still think you're making a mistake, but what the heck, I'll give it a try. Just don't say I didn't warn you," she said, patting his hand. Cameo let out a loud whoop, drawing the attention of those around him. He didn't care about the stares from the others. They didn't matter, not right now. His life was complete.

"You won't regret this," he assured her.

* * *

Far away from the lovebirds, both in mood and physical location, was Knave. He had rested for a little while, but had decided that his anger needed venting and hunting the cargo bay for rodents would sate his bloodlust. As he entered the hold he saw a young Icewalker gathering food stuffs for the mess hall. Apart from him, though, the room was empty. Errand complete, the lad scurried out of the room, barely acknowledging Knave along the way. This was fine to the hybrid Lunatak and he settled himself in the middle of the room extending his senses in all directions around him.

That was one thing his feline side was good for, for all the grief it had brought him, enhanced senses. He could hear movement in the far corner of the hold and grinned a grin he reserved for prisoners he was about to torture. His feet scarcely made a sound as he crossed the floor, his ears twitching trying to pin down the location of his prey, and as he got closer his nose caught a faint whiff of a familiar scent. A scent that should not have been present.

Knave quietly, and now more focussed, rounded a stack of crates and spied one that was ajar. His fingers flexed and his eyes narrowed to thin slits. He launched through the air at where his keen senses told him his victim was, satisfied when he heard her cry of alarm and grunt of pain as their bodies collided. It was the Psion woman, he could see her ghostly outline at the moment of impact. She struggled to dislodge his weight from her body to no avail. Knave easily out massed and out muscled her and found her throat with one hand. As his claws slowly sank into the yielding flesh she increased her fighting, pounding on his shoulders and chest with her fists. "Stop that and die with dignity," he snapped.

"Wait!" she gurgled, allowing herself to turn visible. He could see thin rivulets of blood oozing from around his fingers. Though he relished the thought of killing her, he surrendered to his curiosity. "I can be of use to you," she said. He removed his hand from her neck, though the look in his eyes indicated that he could replace it very quickly if she tried anything funny. "If you let me live I can do you a favour." Her hand began lowering the zipper of her jumpsuit, indicating clearly what she had in mind; this act, however, did not have the intended result.

Knave's laughter rang out through the hold. "My father had the same idea. All I needed was a woman to satisfy my urges. Even let me borrow his harem for a day. The problem is, I found that inflicting pain is far more pleasurable than any carnal act could be. I highly doubt you're offering that joy to my life. You get one more chance before I gut you where you lie." His eyes narrowed again, razor sharp nails moving to rest on her belly.

"No, no..." Zanaya's voice trembled. Skilled assassin though she was, she had relied too much on her camouflage to get the job done. This here was a killer who exceeded her abilities. She knew she was the smarter of the two and, given time, could outwit him. "I can help you with that though. I know what happened between you and the captain this morning and I know you would like the chance to carve him up."

"Go on," he said, shifting his weight.

"It seems to me that your biggest problem is that bodyguard of his. I can eliminate her for you, allow you your chance to teach Captain Havallance a lesson, kill him if you like."

"You expect me to betray the empire for personal gain? Kill the captain I'm sworn to follow?" he asked. She was in dangerous territory. An Icewalker was raised to be loyal and honourable and rarely broke that allegiance. She'd heard there were ways of challenging, but wasn't certain on the protocols.

"Not kill, not necessarily. A man of Captain Havallance's stature should be treated with respect, but then so should you. Your family outranks his. He should pay homage to you, and yet he slights you. Threatens you. He also... no, I shouldn't speak of what I overheard him say. It wouldn't be right." Zanaya's inner self smiled broadly when she noted the expression on his face. She was so close to having him wrapped around her finger, though the claws of his fingers reminded her how thin a line she walked.

"What did you overhear?" Knave asked, pressing his nails into her stomach. Not hard enough yet to pierce the thin cloth covering, but coming very close.

"He was talking to his second in command and said that you, these are his words, not mine I remind you, 'half breed freaks of nature' should not receive any of the glory for this mission to Third Earth. He intends to either arrange for an accident to occur or abandon you on the surface."

Knave was crestfallen, his heart conflicted with the words. He wasn't sure how much of it to believe, her being a Psion desperate to save her own hide, but the words sounded plausible. His own conversation with the captain was more than enough to back-up her assertions. He wasn't sure what to do, though revenge was front and centre in his mind. "Fine. I'll believe you for now, but from now on you do exactly what I say. Understood?"

"Believe me. I know the consequences," Zanaya replied, touching the blood at her throat. He nodded sharply as if to verify her thoughts and stood over her.

"Good. I need time to think about what we're going to do. Havallance will be made to suffer for threatening to kill me. When the time comes you will have to find a way to remove Krystalin. Dead is preferred since she will be livid when she finds out about the captain. Every day at this time I will find you here or else I will come hunting for you and you don't want that. If you need me, my quarters are near the engine room. I'm a light sleeper so don't think of trying anything."

Zanaya had little choice but to agree to his terms, it was an assassination being paid for with her own life. She started to sit up when he fixed her with a glance. She raised an eyebrow in inquiry.

"You spoiled my blood sport. The carnal sport will have to do," he explained.

* * *

Morning was breaking in the royal capital city. The Icewalker and Graviton fleets had arrived, causing quite the stir within the community. In the royal quarters, Tycho was curled in a ball, debating whether or not he should pretend to be asleep as Darius entered the room. Ultimately he decided that the changeling knew him well enough to know the truth and slowly opened his eyes.

"There's a young lady to see you. It's Eluosi Brythago. I tried to tell her to go away, but she's very insistent. She's sitting with Panthis in your library. I didn't really know where else to put her," Darius explained, looking very tired. "And before you ask, Panthis is the Guardian we were working on. I had him wakened because of the current situation. I figured it was prudent."

"Thank you, Darius. I'm sure you acted wisely," Tycho yawned and stretched his limbs. There was nothing for it but to confront the young lady and determine what it was she wanted. He stood and dressed in the cleanest attire he had, making a mental note that his laundry needed to be done soon or else he'd have nothing to wear, and proceeded down the hall.

She was, as Darius had said, seated in the library, currently reading a book on an earlier king, Lunaris the Second. He'd been a decent king, who had met with a bloody end when he had slipped from the roof while gazing at the stars. Panthis stood rigidly by the door and turned sharply at the entrance of the king. Immediately he fell to one knee, and crossed his arm over his chest. Eluosi closed the book and placed it gently on the shelf. "I'm early, I know," she said simply, smoothing out the simple purple dress she'd worn for the occasion and crossing the room to meet him.

"I'm afraid this probably isn't the best time for our date," Tycho started before his words were waved off.

"You mean the issue between you and Aristarchus? Don't look surprised, word gets around. I've got people who tell me things. Besides, the fleet of ships arriving an hour ago would have tipped off anyone with a brain that something big was going down. You boys are always thinking with your fists, aren't you?" she sighed a melodramatic sigh. "The only reason I agreed to be a candidate for marriage was the faint hope that I could stem the tide of violence a bit, and this seems as good a time as any to start."

"I don't think you understand. Aristarchus is the one instigating. I'm just defending myself," Tycho said, caught off-guard by her manner. He gestured for Darius to fetch breakfast since it appeared that there would be no getting rid of Eluosi so easily.

"Ah yes, answer his violence with more of your own without dealing with the root of the problem."

"The root of the problem is that I'm Lunar King and he's not. I've tried offering him other positions but there's only one he's interested in. Even if I stepped aside he'd have my head on a platter within a week, not to mention the damage he would do to the empire," Tycho tried to explain. He still felt tired, and this type of conversation wasn't helping. He drifted over to couch motioning for her to join him.

"I know that. He plans on the conquest of the universe. He'd have everyone drafted into his army for war after bloody war," Eluosi said, seating herself back down, "but you're not much better. How many innocent lives have been lost in your so-called attempts to unite the empire?"

Tycho had a terse reply prepared, one that would remind his date for the morning just how many lives he'd managed to save by preventing minor battles between the races. His thoughts were derailed when there was a loud explosion. The door into the royal apartments was blown aside as a pair of simian Mutants, a rodent like creature, a Psion and two Royal Lunataks entered. Tycho recognized the Psion as Mystan and one of the Royals as Kaprenius, though the others eluded him.

Panthis moved first, spurred by his loyalty to Tycho. He tackled one of the simians and received a painful pistol blast to the head. Kaprenius stepped around the corpse and purposefully moved towards Tycho. "Good job, Rodin. With Darius out of the room, picking up this one is a snap. Bring them both, I'm sure daddy dearest can find a use for the girl. If they resist, kill them," he said, his eyes locking with Tycho's, daring him to call his bluff, but the king knew when he was outnumbered and followed along willingly.

* * *

The coma induced dreams of Shade carried her memories forward in time, from the banquet on their departure to that fateful moment on the bridge of the Excelsior. The shuttle carrying representatives from each moon was leaving the hangar. The preliminary mission was one of reconnaissance, locating Mumm-Rana's pyramid and scouting the area for danger. A pyramid had been spotted, surrounded by heavy thunderclouds, and so a less direct route was called for.

The Darklings had narrowed their choice for the mission to two; Red Eye and another, whose name was Nuitache. The two had drawn straws for the honour and Shade found herself curiously hoping Nuitache would win. There was evil on that planet, she could feel it like she could her own skin. The evil was watching them, waiting, preparing to strike. Psindis had dismissed her concerns when she had brought them up to the elderly priest.

Shade watched as the shuttle dipped through the upper atmosphere near a ridge of mountains. That's when the trouble started. The first thing she noticed was that the evil presence was gone and she knew that it was focussed on Luna's shuttle instead. A cry was heard from one of the bridge crew, a Graviton woman who was seated at the weapons position. The captain ran to her station and looked at the monitor for himself. Shade didn't need to hear their conversation to guess what the fuss was about.

Thick black clouds were gathering, lightning visible even from their vantage point in orbit. Shade's heart leapt as Alluro's voice was piped through. "...ost navigation... to thirty percent... like a giant hand holdin... my God!" and then static. The captain severed the connection and paced back to his chair, staring through the window. The black clouds dissipated back to where they'd come from, as mysteriously as they'd arrived.

"Your orders sir?" the communication officer asked quietly.

"Let me take another ship down. I must know if my father's alive," Shade said.

"You saw what happened down there," the captain glowered, obviously still shaken by what he'd seen. "If I let you take one of the fighters down there you'll be torn to pieces too. No, we'll go back to the moons and see if anyone is foolhardy enough to take part in a salvage and rescue operation. Queen Luna is presumed dead. End of story. Set a course back to Plundarr."

* * *

When Darius returned to the royal apartments, pushing a cart of food, he spied the scorch marks on the hallway and the lack of a door. Instantly his heart began racing as he sprinted into the library. Panthis still lay on the ground, a large pool of blood surrounding his body, but of Tycho and Eluosi there was no sign. That was a positive. They were still alive, but he doubted they would remain that way for too long. Dispersing the bulk of his mass into the air, Darius changed his body into that of a small winged insect and raced back through the halls towards Aristarchus' house. He prayed that he wasn't too late.

* * *

The Lunar king was indeed in Aristarchus' home. He was bound at the wrists and ankles and being held firmly on his knees by the simian guards while Aristarchus, Kaprenius, Mystan and the other Royal stood and watched. Slowly Aristarchus approached his prisoner, drinking in the sight of him so firmly in his power, savouring the moment. "How the mighty have fallen," he said with the slightest hint of a sneer. "The mighty King Tycho, my prisoner at last. Soon your lifeless body will be displayed for all to see, that the people might see what happens to those who deny my will. The girl will join you too unless she acknowledges that I am the true ruler of the Lunataks. Perhaps I will kill her first, so that you can die knowing that her blood is on your hands. Would you like that? No, I doubt you would. That's the problem with you. You don't understand that you sometimes have to do unpleasant things to get to the top."

Tycho raged silently, unwilling to grant Aristarchus the satisfaction of a response. The older man took Tycho's chin in his hand and forced the eyes to meet his own. "Is that fear I see on your face?" Aristarchus asked, grinning. "And well you should fear me. But I tire of this already. Take him to the basement and prepare him for his execution. I will change into more formal attire. I wish to broadcast my ascension to the throne and the execution of a traitor at the same time."

* * *

It was disturbing to Cameo to find the shared room empty, with Knave nowhere to be found. He knew little of the man, save what was common knowledge, but his information included a wild temper and a thirst for blood. This was a literal thirst, if the stories that his fellow pilots told were true, and that worried Cameo somewhat. He'd upset the man and needed to know if he would be murdered in his sleep tonight. That didn't feel like Knave's style, however. No. He was more likely to give you fair warning.

His mind wandered to whether he should seek him out, but decided that more pleasant thoughts should govern his mind. The two were polar opposites in Cameo's life right now. Psikaris brightened the room with her very presence, she made him feel happy and warm inside. Knave, on the other hand, was insufferable, and seemed to enjoy spreading around the misery when he was upset.

The problem was the Cameo could understand the man's frustrations. It wasn't easy being a mixed race Lunatak, less so on the Ice Moon where such couplings were more common, but even still there was a deep rooted prejudice. He knew that his and Knave's situations were compounded by the fact that their other halves weren't even Lunatak, but alien. The two had much in common but...

He shook his head. They'd been raised differently. He'd only seen pictures of his father, but his mother had loved him very much and had taken great pains to try and shelter him from the cruelties of the outside world. She'd been the one to encourage him to join the military. She had known that that was a place where one's actions spoke louder than the blood in their veins. Knave? He'd been all but locked in the dungeons, loathed by his father, and given the barest of educations. If only he could get Knave to open up.

It suddenly occurred to Cameo that he wasn't entirely certain of Psikaris' upbringing. She'd never really discussed it much. Their families had lived near each other, probably due to their mixed race commonality. He knew that her parents had had three children, Psikaris, Psychro and an older brother who had died in combat. She seemed to have turned out all right, though Psychro had his womanizing. He would have to talk to her about it some time when there wasn't so much going on.

The door opened and Knave entered. Though he'd obviously just showered, blood still stained the fur about his hands and chest. Their eyes met for a moment and Cameo knew he was safe for the time being. Whatever bloodlust Knave had, he had clearly used it up. While Knave climbed up on to his bunk and pulled the curtain across, Cameo decided to wait for Psikaris to get back.

* * *

Tycho was propelled down a flight of stairs, bouncing hard off a bannister and tumbling for several steps, coming to a stop at the bottom. He struggled to his knees and glanced around. The basement was filled with torture instruments, many of them having had plenty of use over the years. Tycho had heard rumours of such a place but never been able to prove anything. The simian guards were laughing to themselves as they came down the stairs, taking their sweet time in doing so.

"Heh, which one do you think Aristarchus will use?" one asked the other, opting to use a common dialect so that their prisoner could understand it.

"I hope for the flattener. You know, the one that starts at the feet and slowly flattens the victim? Heh, heh, heh. It's slow and very painful," the other replied, grabbing his belly as he chuckled.

"Nah, he wants the head in one piece. I bet he just lets him bleed to death in here. A shame too, because I rather liked when he burned that other one alive." The simians took him by the arms and strapped him tightly to a table, being none too gentle about it. "Let's go wake the girl."

Tycho followed their movements with his eyes and saw another table nearby with a cloth covering it. When it was pulled back he saw Eluosi laying there, her eyes were closed and mouth gagged. One of the apes produced a syringe of some sort, injecting her and causing her to awake. She struggled hard against her bonds and was cursing up a storm despite the efforts of the gag. Some of the epitaphs he'd never even heard of, mostly insulting the parentage of the two Simians.

"Wakey wakey. Aristarchus is coming soon and we wouldn't want you to miss any of the fun, would we?" one of the simians asked, causing both to erupt with laughter.

"Let's see what happens when we put hot coals on her feet!" the other howled, moving towards an oven nearby. He was almost there when there was a loud roar from the base of the stairs.

Finding Tycho hadn't been too difficult for Darius, and when he saw the scene and heard what the apes had planned he couldn't stand by and allow it to happen. His shape grew, drawing on mass from the air and objects around him, growing larger and larger until he was easily double the size of the simians. He punched the nearer ape with all his strength, his fist caving in his head. Still enraged, Darius violently tore the simian's arm from its socket and advanced menacingly towards the other Mutant.

This ape wasn't stupid, however. The room was full of weapons for him to use, even though he was clearly out muscled. He grabbed a pot of boiling oil from the stove and drenched the changeling in the stuff. There was time for him to get out of the way, but the Mutant knew that such an act would leave Tycho vulnerable to the spray. Darius cried out in pain, shape changing frantically to try and get the stuff off of him, looking up in time to see a metal pole swinging at his head. He almost dodged the blow, ducking and rolling to the side, but was grazed with enough force to interrupt his movement.

Tycho fought with his straps, trying to help his lover, to no avail. Mutants weren't useful for much, but what they did do they did well. Darius was clearly disoriented, both from pain and blind rage. He suddenly leapt through the air, shape changing as he did, and turned into an ooze like substance that wrapped itself tightly around the head of the simian. The creature clawed at the ooze, trying to catch its breath. Gradually the struggles became weaker and weaker, finally stopping altogether. Another count of twenty and the ooze reverted back into Darius' natural form. The form looked ragged and tired, but content at having his king safe at last.

"Release us," Tycho said, as his companion began undoing the straps. "We're going to have real trouble getting out of here. This is Aristarchus' home. Every person in this place is bound to be loyal to him and will help him re-capture us. We're going to need help."

"The video camera!" Eluosi said as her gag was removed. "We can broadcast a request for help on there."

"She's right," Tycho said. "Aristarchus wanted to broadcast my execution live across the city. We can use it to call our allies."

* * *

The scowl on Nitro Iespyk's face told the story. He hated being kept waiting, especially by a non Icewalker. Tycho had promised to meet the convoy of ships shortly after it landed and was nowhere in sight. To make matters worse, there was a contingent of Lunatak soldiers with weapons trained on he and his men. If this was an ambush, it wasn't very well thought out.

The monitors around the landing pad, and everywhere else in the city, flickered and Tycho's face appeared. He looked in bad condition and was bleeding slightly from a cut on his forehead. If he was using the royal frequency, which would allow him to interrupt all other broadcasts, then it had to be important.

"Ladies and gentlemen. A few hours ago Aristarchus attempted a hostile takeover of the throne by abducting myself and noted actress Eluosi Brythago. We have escaped death and commandeered his video transmitter. However, we are still trapped in his basement. I would ask anyone loyal to the throne to come to our aid. I especially appeal to the Icewalkers and Gravitons who have recently arrived. Aristarchus will destroy the empire if he is allowed to get away with this. Please hurry."

Nitro turned to his countrymen, each one agreeing on the course of action. Whether the soldiers liked it or not, the Icewalkers were going to help.

* * *

Aristarchus growled at his son when the latter told him of Tycho's proclamation. It was the boy's fault that things had been sped up in the first place and he needed someone to blame. "Evacuate the house, have our people fall back to the emergency shelter," he told Kaprenius, "then we'll assemble every ally at our disposal and level the capital if we have to. I want Tycho dead."

* * *

"The question is," Tycho said as the trio fortified the door at the top of the stairs with anything they could find, "how did Aristarchus manage to sneak into the royal palace and sneak back out with two prisoners?" The question had been bothering Tycho ever since he'd first been captured. Kaprenius would have been able to get in the palace without problem, as would the Psion priest, but two Mutants as well? And to get that close to his quarters without attracting any attention at all? Then there was the explosion. Surely someone must have heard it. Ultimately these were questions that couldn't be answered until they were free from their prison.

"The real question is how many sympathizers does he have on the inside," Darius replied, hefting a table into place. His skin was badly blistering, the result of the impromptu bath, and his changeling physiology was desperately regenerating it, but the progress was slow. If they survived this, he would be fine in a day or two.

Tycho regarded Eluosi and felt a pang of guilt. She hadn't deserved to get dragged into this power struggle, she'd simply been in the wrong place at the right time. The guards hadn't mistreated her too badly, though, and that was a relief. She'd obviously taken a blow to the side of the head, her cheek was starting to swell up, but otherwise seemed unscathed. As if reading his thoughts she smiled weakly at him as she passed a chair up the stairs.

* * *

Even though she knew it was risky, Zanaya decided to chance having a shower in the crew quarters. She waited until the night rotation left for their posts and the afternoon shift went to sleep. Sure that she would have almost full run of the shower in the women's section she carefully undressed and stashed her clothes somewhere they wouldn't be seen. Her camouflage powers were good, but she couldn't extend them to inanimate objects if she wasn't in contact with them.

She felt filthy on every level. The hybrid had been none too gentle in his frantic coupling. One that she had offered him, a dark corner of her mind reminded her. He'd managed to spread her blood across her body, and added plenty of fur to the sticky mess. She scrubbed vigorously, while silently praying that no one would come to investigate the running water.

She also had to admit that she was fascinated by him, a fact which hadn't made their union remotely enjoyable, but still. He was a challenge to her; someone who could detect her despite her best efforts, someone who was going to force her to change her tactics when she decided to end their partnership.

Finally deciding that she had spent enough time as she dared, she turned off the water and listened keenly for a few moments. Footsteps! Someone else was walking through the shower area. Zanaya's heart hammered within her chest as the footsteps hesitated outside her stall. She supposed that the person had noticed that there were no clothes hanging up and was curious about this. Zanaya knew how to kill people in many ways with only her bare hands, but was reluctant to do so at this juncture. A murder might attract unwanted attention to the possibility of an intruder on board. Even still, she couldn't be discovered.

"You alright in there?" a young bubbly voice asked, having not heard any movement to follow the shower being turned off. Zanaya shook her head. The girl would have to die to protect the truth. With luck, another Icewalker would be blamed. One Icewalker, with Thunderian blood, would probably suspect otherwise.

The stall door opened and Zanaya moved quickly, she grabbed the young woman's head and jerked it sideways, pleased to hear an immediate snap. The assassin dragged her victim into the shower stall and regarded her with mute detachment. The girl looked fairly young, probably was on her first assignment. Zanaya took great pride in clean kills, even when they were the enemy. Killing was her profession, but everyone deserved to die with some amount of dignity. Quietly gathering her own possessions, the Psion left the room.

* * *

How many hours had it been? Two? Three? Tycho sat against the wall, his mind numb with fatigue and from the blow he'd taken. They could very dimly hear people running through the corridors above them and the occasional rumble from an explosion. He could only guess at what was happening. Aristarchus, if he were smart, had left, taking the bulk of his forces with him. There were probably some ground forces left behind, people too slow to get out or those who didn't hear the message, and they were doubtless encountering any forces loyal to Tycho that had come. Eluosi was leaning against his shoulder, her steady breathing helping to calm his own tense nerves. Darius was asleep near the door, his regenerative powers seeming to work better when he was in a dormant state.

"Some first date. I hope the second has less explosions," Eluosi said, a grin on her face.

"I couldn't agree more," he replied, amused that she could make light of the situation.

"You need to loosen up a bit," she needled, "If we were in any kind of real danger we'd know it. It's been long enough that it's safe to say Aristarchus is dead or gone. I think he'd have come down here otherwise to ensure that you were dead. Give him the victory one way or another. That would be typical of him. Solving his problems with the barrel of a gun."

"How cheerful a thought," Tycho replied, remembering another girl telling him that he needed to keep things light and fun. He wondered if Paracia was having 'fun' right now. "You're probably right. A man like Aristarchus thinks that the best way to deal with problems is to kill them."

"You're not that much better than he is. You've put people to death for criminal acts. That's something I've always rallied against. Needless death. Who says that those are hardened criminals you've got on execution row? Why can't they be reformed and rehabilitated?" She said, leaning forward so she could look him in the eye.

"I wish they could. I do. I hate killing. But for every one person who could be rehabilitated there are a dozen men like Aristarchus. Men who will only use their second chance to kill again. Would you have me send Aristarchus to a counsellor? I would expect him to send me the head of the counsellor," Tycho sighed, matching the determined look. He'd had very similar arguments with himself.

"So you're saying you wouldn't. That's the difference between you and I. Even for all that he and his people have done to me today, I still hold out hope that Aristarchus could be made a valuable part of the community. All the people of the moons are but lumps of clay, needing the right hands to mould them into their appropriate shape. But I guess I'm not going to be able to convince you either way," she said.

"I doubt I'll ever see it your way."

* * *

"My father is a fool," Kaprenius muttered, more to himself than the burly Reptilian Mutant next to him. The duo were taking little used passages towards the basement, quickly dispatching of the resistence they encountered along the way. "We will never have a better chance to be rid of the king than this. Well, if he's too cowardly to see the truth then I will have to open his eyes for him." The reptile grunted, as if in response.

They rounded a corner and saw the door to the basement. Readying his gun, Kaprenius pushed on the handle, finding himself annoyed when he realized it was barricaded. He stepped aside and gestured to the Mutant. "Remove the door," he said, trying to control his emotions. Excitement and anger mixed together to create an energy about him.

The Mutant grunted again and punched the door until his meaty fists broke through. Once this was done Kaprenius pushed him back and stuck his gun through the hole. "Farewell, worms!" he cried, unloading multiple grenade-like projectiles into the room. A series of explosions and cries cut off told Kaprenius that they didn't need to worry anymore about Tycho; King of the Lunataks.

* * *

This wasn't the present, Knave knew, this was the past. A memory. A dream of the last time he'd seen his mother alive. He was eight years old again and the two were standing in the office of Nitro. His mother had spirited him away in the middle of the night with promises of a better place. A new home on a new world. A place where he wouldn't be hated and feared by his peers and where there was more to see than rock and ice. They'd been caught while she tried to disable the locking controls on a fighter craft and been brought roughly to this room. They were encased in ice up to their waists, with arms at their sides so as to trap the hands too. Nitro was angry, his body radiated it.

He approached Knave's mother first. "I warned you, Amber. I warned you there would be consequences if you tried to escape again. Do you remember that? Do you remember what those consequences were?" his finger jabbed at her and she snarled in response, making a futile effort to bite said finger. "Allow me to remind you, and educate my boy at the same time. Three times you tried to escape, and each time I allowed you to live, hoping to bend your spirit to my will. Theft of a starship and betraying your clan are crimes which ordinarily carry heavy penalties. But I am a man of mercy. I forgave you. But then you tried to take our as yet unborn son with you. I told you then that if you ever crossed me like that again it would carry the penalty of death. I can tolerate many things, but I have my limits."

"You only kept me alive to share your bed. What kind of life is that? You promised me death, give me death. Spare me your ramblings," she replied, her voice filled with contempt for the man.

"I will give you death, don't worry about that. But what of the boy? He too has crossed me. He tried to abandon his people. Should I kill him too?" Nitro's cold eyes stared at the Thunderian woman, gauging her reaction. He was pleased when she displayed fear for him.

"No! Please, it was my fault. Let him go," she said.

"Very good. Listen boy, I want this to be a lesson to you. For our people, family and honour are everything. Your mother, though she has little honour, loves her family. And because of that your life is being spared. Remember that always. The sacrifices that were made so that you could breathe another day."

Knave hadn't understood fully what was being said, but clearly understood the part about killing him. He'd seen death before, in this very room no less, and it didn't look like something he would enjoy. Any relief he might have felt, however, was quickly destroyed when his father had spoken again.

"On the other hand, I cannot let you get away with your part in this," Nitro said, producing a long slender blade, the family weapon of choice, and placed the tip over Knave's heart. "Therefore, by the power handed down to me by generations of our people I sentence you to carry out your mother's execution." He turned the weapon around so that the butt of it was facing Knave, then he gestured to the guards to remove the ice from around the boy.

His hands trembled as he bore the weight of the icepick. He looked into his mother's horrified eyes and began to sob noisily. Nitro's hand clamped about his wrist and pulled him agonizingly closer and closer to where his mother stood. She told Knave that she loved him and forgave him for what was about to happen. Then she closed her eyes, unwilling to see the killing stroke. Knave struggled against his father's grip, desperately looking for any way out of this, but his father was too strong and powerful. He felt, rather than saw, his arm pulled back and thrust forward.

That moment was one that Knave would never forget. The sound of flesh being rent, his mother's dying scream, the splash of blood across his body. He sank to the floor, eyes clenched tight as tears flowed freely down his cheeks. He wanted to stand and strike his father dead at that moment but couldn't find the energy. A hand closed about his shoulder. "You're an Icewalker and an Iespyk. Stop your crying and get up."

* * *

Krystalin shook Knave's shoulder again. "Get up," she snapped. Instantly Knave's eyes were open and his fist crashed into the woman's face. She staggered backwards, ignoring the startled gasps from Cameo and Psikaris, and returned the punch. His world spun around him for a few moments, aggravated by her grabbing his shoulders and hauling him to his feet. "Do that again and I break every bone in your face," she said.

"I tried to tell her that you're not a morning person," Cameo said meekly. "There's some big meeting in the crew quarters. Captain wants everyone present." Knave nodded, still a little disoriented and followed the group out.

* * *

Roly Poly surveyed the manor home of Aristarchus with a certain amount of satisfaction; everything was going about as smoothly as they could have expected with such an operation. The combined forces of the Icewalkers, the Gravitons and the loyal natives were making quick work of the minimal resistence they were meeting. There had been two significant casualties, one an Icewalker who had been trying to get some civilians to safety, and a Graviton that had been felled by a lucky shot. The same tally could not be said of the opposing detachment of guards. Many had died, though most were wounded or had fled long ago.

Out of the corner of his eye Roly Poly spied what looked like Aristarchus fleeing the grounds in a swift moving land vehicle. He was just about to order his men to pursue when he heard a rumble, and felt the ground beneath his feet shaking violently. The south west portion of the manor began to buckle and dropped down, crushing several who had been fighting in that area. A chill went up his spine, one unrelated to the Icewalkers standing around him. "The king!" he shouted, "Aristarchus must have buried him, quick! Dig him out!"

Instantly his men scrambled in the direction of the ruined wall, the Icewalkers and Royal Lunataks assisting as the probability of the situation sunk in. All worries about Aristarchus melted away and concern for the moon king formed, for if Tycho were not found alive then Aristarchus would be the new king.

* * *

Perhaps it was the blow he'd taken to the head, or perhaps it was a state of not-quite-awake, but Knave found himself replaying the haunting dream of his mother's last moments in life again. It was strange that he was remembering it, he'd stopped dreaming about it long ago, and he couldn't quite figure out why. She had sacrificed her life, even knowing what the price of failure was, to save him. There was no greater sign of his mother's love than that, an act that certainly his father would never have done. If he was honest with himself, he couldn't think of anyone that *he* would be willing to do that for, and that saddened him on some level.

She had visions of a new life for the two of them, he could remember her extolling how different their life would be on this new home. They would be free to do as they pleased, live among others who would care for them. They could be happy and at peace.

"What a crock," an angry voice within the hybrid's head spat. "You've seen the look of disgust on the faces of Thunderian prisoners. The mere thought of one of their own copulating with a Lunatak was so abhorrent to them that they couldn't even look at you. Life among Thunderians would be no different than living with the Lunataks. Those Thunderians hide behind their precious Code of Thundera, they like to feel superior to all others. At least with the Lunataks there's no secrecy. You know who your enemies are, and there's no shame in using violence against them. Your mother wasn't looking for a better life for you, she was looking for a better life for herself, she had to know that you would be loathed and despised, that your life would have been worse off than on the Ice Moon. Your father showed you more love in opening your eyes to the truth, allowing you to kill such a traitor to the empire."

Knave's step faltered, forcing Cameo to catch him and inquire as to his health. He brushed off such concern and forced himself to remain in step with the others. This seemed to satisfy them enough to leave him alone to his thoughts.

When had it happened? When had he started viewing his mother as being wrong and his father as being right? His father was wrong, wasn't he? It was his fault that his mother had been in that position in the first place. He'd raped her and enjoyed it so much he kept her alive to use whenever he pleased. Then he'd forced his son to kill his mother, an image that had burned its way into his mind, to the point that he could almost feel the warm blood on his flesh.

"She was wrong. She deserved to die. She was shown mercy and given everything she could have wanted, and how did she repay it? Through treachery. By spitting the kindness back in the face of her masters," the voice, one that had been taught by the best tutors that Nitro could afford, replied.

It was true. She had been given everything. Everything except her freedom. And what kind of life was it anyway? To be trapped in a foreign place, apart from those you care about, to have your body used like it was some kind of plaything? That wasn't a life. How could anyone be happy under those circumstances? He couldn't really blame his mother for wanting to get away from it all.

"And you're so much better?" the voice said, asking a question he didn't want to hear.

"Yes. I am!" Knave said aloud, ignoring the strange looks his travelling companions gave him at the outburst. He was better than his father. Wasn't he? He would never do anything quite so heinous as...

"What about Zanaya?" the voice purred, causing the hair on his back to raise.

The truth stung. He had mistreated Zanaya. She was very similar to his mother in many respects. Away from her home. Used for sex and other uses. He wasn't that much different than his father, and the thought scared him. He could almost imagine Zanaya locked in a room, only emerging to pleasure him, siring him children. But he wasn't as heartless as his father. He could be different. He just had to apologize to Zanaya and never force himself on her again. That would fix things. It had to.

"Not heartless? That's why the prisoners in the dungeon fear you so?"

He meted out justice. Punished those who were traitors to the empire, hurt anyone who dared defy him and his people.

"Like your father did with you and your mother. Face it. You are your father's son, whether you like it or not. It's too late to change. Embrace it."

It couldn't be true. The future had to be malleable. He could change. he was reasonably certain that he hated his father. The same father who had authorized Captain Havallance to kill him. He would never turn out anything like that man. He could not allow it.

* * *

There was darkness. Tycho could feel the darkness around him like a glove, and the darkness felt hard as rock. He tried to sit up but found his movement constricted by something. It felt rough to the touch and warm with a slight pulse within it. It was that pulse, one familiar to him, that caused his memory to replay what had happened.

Kaprenius and his Mutant companion at the door. The weapon going off. Darius' shout. Then blackness. Near his feet he heard a moan and he felt around for the source. His hand drifted across the floor until it touched silken hair against a soft cheek. The moan came louder at his touch and he recoiled. "Eluosi?" he asked into the dark. There was no answer but he was positive that he was right. The dead Simian mutants had been too far away during the attack and it couldn't be Darius. He wondered if the woman could hear him. She seemed to be unconscious, but maybe hearing his voice explaining would comfort her on some level. At the least it would help him to organize his thoughts.

"Eluosi, it's me, Tycho. We're safe. I'm not sure how to explain this, but we're inside Darius right now. When Kaprenius attacked, he transformed himself into a diamond hard substance and shielded us. He tried to explain his powers to me one day but I couldn't understand them completely. I understand that he can borrow mass from the air and objects around him when necessary, and I think that's how this shield is constructed. Actually, I'm a little scared that he hasn't turned back, or tried to communicate with us. But I have faith that he'll be alright. And so will we."

Tycho examined the space more carefully. There was just enough height in the shell to raise his head a few inches, but space at his side and at the feet. It was in the latter space that Eluosi was laying.

"I'm sorry I got you in this mess," he added. "You shouldn't have been made a part of this, you didn't deserve it."

* * *

The crew quarters were filled with people, leaving a skeleton crew to run the ship. The wall separating the men from the women had been retracted and the captain stood with a pair of brutish looking men by the washroom door. As Krystalin and the hybrids entered, they could hear people whispering among themselves; a woman had been murdered. Krystalin left the trio to stand by her commander, who waited for the noise to die down.

"I'm not going to mince words here. We've had a murder on board this ship. Frostella of House Whitestar was found in a shower stall a few hours ago with her neck broken. My chief of security," Captain Havallance gestured to Krystalin, "will be conducting an investigation. Anyone with any information at all must report it to either her or myself. The service for Frostella will be tomorrow at noon." He stepped aside and the woman took his spot.

"The doctors are going to look at the body for me. Each of you will come in to my office one at a time and tell me where you were when it happened," she said. "The hybrids will go first."

A murmur went through the crowd, suggesting that they shared the sentiment that one of the three must have had a hand in the murder. Krystalin's eyes met those of the trio and narrowed sharply, daring them to make some sort of protest, though none came.

"Dismissed!"

* * *

The corridors of the great temple of the Psions were empty at this late hour. Psipe, one of the elders, walked briskly across the stone floors, his sandals slapping nosily. Toran, eldest of the elders, was where he was expecting him, kneeling before the altar of the gods. "Master Toran. We are undone! Kaprenius acted in haste and has ruined everything. Soon the truth of our actions will be learned and the full might of the other moons will turn against us," he said, his voice rising with panic

Toran stood, his joints protesting the movement, and faced the younger man. "It is as the oracle foretold. Aristarchus' seed would spoil our plans if not kept in check. I cautioned Mystan and Aristarchus about this very matter. Still, we are not discovered yet. There remains hope. As it so happens the oracle visited me an hour ago with another vision. There were two windows. Six moons flew towards them. Aristarchus' hand closed one, blocking their entry, but he was too slow getting to the other. The moons entered and he was destroyed. The oracle believes that the windows represent our windows of opportunity while the moons represent six Lunataks, and that if Aristarchus does not act in time, seizing the throne we assume, that we will be undone."

"Or it's warning us that we should invite Aristarchus over to close all our windows for us," Psipe replied. "We have had this discussion before, wise one. I do not doubt that the gods have sent a message to us through a mortal vessel, but the vessel is weak. The vessel carries its own biases and motivations. Who is to say that the oracle is not leading us astray with false interpretations? What if the gods are telling us that Aristarchus needs to be destroyed for the sake of the moons. Perhaps the moons represent the five moons of Plundarr and the planet itself?"

"We can not say for sure either way. All we can do is have faith in the will of the gods. They will guide us as best we can," Toran said, settling back to a kneeling position in front of the altar. He didn't even hear Psipe's footsteps as he left the room.


	3. Chapter 3

Heritage of the Lunatak Empire by Jonathan J. Prideaux  
Chapter 3

The front portion of Krystalin's quarters served as her office while the back was her personal area, it was in the former that the interviews were taking place. Knave had been in there for ten minutes already, and there had been shouting at one point. Cameo was half expecting his cabin-mate to be carried out on a stretcher any minute. Cameo and Psikaris were sitting on the floor outside, waiting for their turns. Cameo could feel the warmth of her hand as it nestled in his own, and her comforting presence beside him. Psikaris squeezed his hand gently and smiled at him, sensing his agitation.

His heart beat faster, dreading what was to come. He hadn't had many dealings with Krystalin, but just being near her frightened him, and he had overheard stories of what she could do to a person's body. She was as cold as the moon itself, it was said, and she had yet to lose a fight.

The door hissed open revealing a clearly furious Knave, who immediately stormed past the seated pair and went down to his quarters. Cameo feared what the state of the walls would be after Knave was done with them. He kissed Psikaris' head gently and entered the room, taking a seat in one of the hard metal chairs across from Krystalin's desk. Now that he was in here he could see that it was sparsely furnished, very few of the trophies that he would have expected from such a high ranking officer. There were two sets of shackles on the wall next to a cabinet that had blood stains on the door handles. Otherwise there was nothing. The security officer sat in an ornate chair, carved with demonic faces. She sat, staring intently at him, weighing his guilt by his every action. "So why did you do it?" she asked when she finally spoke.

"I didn't do anything," he replied, "I barely knew her. I think I saw her once in the med lab. I sat beside her when I was filling out my paperwork before coming on board. Beyond that..."

"Did she make some disparaging remark about you?" Krystalin asked, interrupting him.

"I don't remember. I think she may have smiled at me and said hello."

"Ah, so you were in love with her then. You asked her out, and when she turned you down, that's when you killed her?"

"What? That's crazy! I've got a girlfriend. And even if I didn't I can handle rejection a little better than that," Cameo snorted.

"Now you're making fun of me? Your friend earned a bruise, I could give you one too." Krystalin didn't move, didn't need to move, as Cameo flinched back from her.

"I wasn't insulting you. I was saying that me doing something like that is crazy. I could never hurt anyone like that."

"Oh really? I know all about your kind. The Whitestar family is one of the strictest families against interspecies breeding. They burned alive a son who had been fooling around with a Darkling. I imagine your type wanted revenge. A life for a life, show them what happens when they mess with one of your own?"

Cameo was certain that he had just answered such an allegation from the woman and wondered why she was trying it again, probably hoping he'd slip up and confess to something. He wasn't the brightest pilot in the fleet, but he was figured that was it. "I only vaguely remember hearing about that. I'd flown with the kid and was surprised, maybe a little angry, but again, I would not do something like that."

"Sure. Where were you last night?"

"In my quarters asleep. If Knave and 'Karis hadn't been sleeping too, they could vouch for me."

"What about Knave and Psikaris? Would either of them have a motive to kill?" Krystalin asked, leaning forward slightly, hoping he would throw one of his friends under the proverbial bus.

"I can't speak for Knave, I barely know the guy. Seems okay, maybe a little moody, but Psikaris I've known forever. She can't even kill a bug, let alone another Lunatak. You'd be wasting your time interviewing her," Cameo said, chuckling a little to himself.

"You find something funny? You're covering for her, aren't you? I'll get what I want out of her, even if I have to use stronger methods. We're done here," Krystalin rose, walked over to the cabinet and opened it. Inside were many objects, mostly metal but some of leather or wood. All looked to be built for inflicting harm. As soon as the cabinet was open and he saw the implements, Cameo leapt on to Krystalin's back ignoring the pain racing through his body from contact with her flesh. She staggered forward for an instant but was able to free herself from his bulk and throw him to the floor. "I guess we aren't done yet." She selected a metallic rod with needle like points around one end and advanced on him.

* * *

As he ran, Mystan went through a mental list of colourful words he would use if he ever ran in to Kaprenius again. He had joined Aristarchus and a few of his elite guard in running through secret tunnels until they had emerged on the outskirts of the former's estate. He'd taken a moment to glance around, observing the fighting going on between the cannon fodder and the representatives of the Ice and Graviton Moons. Things were not going smoothly right now, and it was precisely because of that whelp that they were not. If he hadn't rushed into things, they would be that much better off.

Mind you, he thought to himself, the father wasn't much better. Gloating over one's prisoners was a character flaw that Mystan didn't think he himself possessed. Aristarchus, at least, earned his favour because he had almost salvaged a bad situation, and was currently saving both their hides.

A transport car was parked nearby, in case of just such an emergency, and it was here that they were headed. Aristarchus pulled the camouflage tarp off the vehicle and climbed into the passenger seat, forcing Mystan to sit in the back with a half dozen heavily armed men. At least they were free for the time being and could regroup.

* * *

There were two unfortunate souls in the cargo hold when Knave got there, and both made the mistake of thinking that their muttered comments went unheard. The hybrid was in a foul mood to begin with after his interview with Krystalin, and having two lower classed individuals insinuating he was behind the murder was almost enough to send him plummeting over the edge of sanity. Except that Zanaya was there. He could see her clearly, seated on a barrel, one leg arched over the other, gently bouncing it and watching the show. His eyes shifted from the woman to the two gentlemen now only a few metres away. They had both put down the supplies they had been collecting and were now tensed for combat.

"You goin' to kill us too, freak?" one of them asked.

"You're not worth the effort," Knave snarled, forcing himself not to give in to his animal rages. Such actions would only show Krystalin that he was capable of the murder, and given her low opinion of him that would be tantamount to confessing.

The men decided to take advantage of Knave's conflicting mood to scurry past him to report what had happened. He watched them go for a moment before noticing a slow clap from behind him. "Nicely done. You Icewalkers aren't complete barbarians after all," Zanaya said, hopping down from her perch. "Though, given your interview, I'd say that your people are still in dire need of enlightenment."

Knave glowered at the Psion woman, though his mind reminded him of the guilt he'd felt earlier. "And I suppose your people are the ones to do it?" he scoffed.

"Of course. We are the ones closest to the gods. Who better?" she shook her head sadly, "Are your eyes still closed to the reality of your situation? Do I need to remind you what happened in that chamber? I told you that Captain Havallance and Krystalin were planning on killing you, and this is the perfect excuse to do it. Accuse you and those other two of murder, and execute you as traitors."

"Maybe I should point out who the real murderer is. Someone who happens to be an assassin perhaps," Knave said, enjoying the flicker of concern on her face. He'd considered doing just that, but had realized that doing so would cost him a valuable ally.

"Fair enough. Or you could potentially use said assassin to prevent your own death. My offer to eliminate Krystalin still stands. I believe I can override the controls to her room to lock her in and crank the heat. Given her physiology it should kill her swiftly," Zanaya said. "The idea came to me in a dream, which is a good omen to my people. We put a lot of stock in our dreams, you know."

"I do. It's one of the reasons my people laugh at you. No matter, the plan sounds reasonable. But not yet. Once we get to Third Earth it will be much easier to take over. Especially once we..." he cut himself off sharply.

"Once we what?" Zanaya asked.

"Never mind that. Look, I was wanting to run in to you again. I blame my Thunderian heritage for this, it's weak, it is difficult to control, it... it has urges that must be answered. What I did to you yesterday wasn't right, I can see that, this body of mine needed to be satisfied, and you just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm sorry," he said, jerking his head away from her. There was still anger in his voice, but it was directed instead at his other self.

He'd caught Zanaya off-guard, though. She'd noticed his avoiding the question but was momentarily too stunned to try again to get answers out of him. His guilt and remorse could be used to her advantage, played up enough to earn his trust. And once he gave her the information she wanted she could kill him at her leisure. Her acceptance of his apology, however, was genuine enough as she approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I understand. We all have our demons. Even me. I'm an assassin thanks to the gods, but it comes at a price. When I turned twelve I received a vision. I would be granted the ability to kill others with no taint to my soul, and could grow in strength and skill by sacrificing an innocent in their name once a year, on the anniversary of my birth. But if I ever fail to pay tribute in this manner, the restless souls of all those I've killed will drag me down in to the nether world for an eternal torment. It's a warning I have never forgotten. You have no idea how difficult it is for me to take the life of a helpless child, I sometimes think I can hear them crying in the night. Our demons may be different, but we are very much alike."

Knave turned around to stare at her, stunned by her confession and the trust she had put in him to tell it. His heart cried out to this poor woman and he took her into his arms, anger completely gone.

Zanaya smiled inwardly to herself, pleased that he had taken it so hard. The vision was true, but she didn't fear it as much as she had let on. She knew that as long as she remembered, that she would be granted a place of honour in the afterlife. She decided to press her luck a bit more. "It's amazing. Two people from different worlds. Different cultures. People who are, by their natures, alone. And yet here we are, alone together. The gods must have willed this to happen, sent me to try and kill your father knowing that we would be suited to one another. Knave... I... think I love you." She forced herself to place her hand on his chest, wishing that there were a knife in it.

"I've never cared for anyone except my mother," Knave said, dazed and confused by the feelings that were swirling within him. "And yet... You're right. I have never met anyone like you. I felt such guilt for hurting you, and that's an alien feeling for me. I have never felt guilt. I don't know how to respond to these feelings."

"You're wrong," she breathed, sliding her hand lower, stroking him gently "you do know how to respond. Trust your instincts. And when we're done, maybe we can talk a little bit more about Third Earth?"

"Anything you want, just don't stop," he gasped. Had he been paying attention he would have noticed that the look of pleasure on Zanaya's face had nothing to do with the act they were engaged in.

* * *

Pain flared through every muscle in Cameo's body, though the worst of it seemed to be centred around his wrists and shoulders. At the same time, he felt detached from his body, and he wasn't quite certain why. What had he been doing? He'd been cuddled up to Psikaris, but that wouldn't cause him injury would it, there were no sexual positions that would do that, he didn't think. Her brother wasn't around, was he? No. He'd gotten up and been interviewed by... Krystalin! Of course! She'd made threats about hurting Psikaris. He'd attacked.

His innate powers, probably gifted to him on his father's side, allowed him to mimic the abilities of those he touched. Although he usually could control it, he suspected he'd done it automatically when he'd jumped on the ice woman's back. Flesh on flesh could kill if prolonged, and he'd been clinging to her for long enough that he probably would have been dead otherwise. She'd flung him to the floor and proceeded to use every instrument in the closet just to say she had. He must have blacked out at some point.

He forced his body to awaken, allow him to see if the torment was over or not, and felt a stinging sensation on his forehead. He instinctively jerked his head backwards and regretted doing that even more, as his skull collided with the metal wall behind him. His eyes flashed open, ready to stare daggers into the heart of his tormentor, if she had one, and was startled to see Psikaris standing in front of him with a look of concern on her pretty face.

"Sorry," she mumbled. She had her navy blue jacket wrapped around one hand and had clearly been tending to his wounds when he'd awakened.

"S'okay," he replied. Krystalin had taken a thin wire and lashed him across the face, he recalled now. That was the wound that his love had been taking care of. Seeing that he was at least paying attention now, she resumed her work. "Where's the bitch?" he asked.

Psikaris moved her ministrations to his chest, prodding a nasty looking welt. "She went to find Knave. He apparently tried to kill a couple of kitchen servers. It was awful, Cameo, she threatened to beat you more if I didn't confess. I couldn't bear it, I knew we were both innocent, but I wanted to say I did it just so she'd finally leave you alone. I felt relieved when those two came in. Do you think it's possible? Could Knave have really done it?"

"I... I don't know. There was a trace of blood on him when he came to bed last night, and he'd been in the showers... Something feels off here, like they *want* it to be one of us. But that doesn't make sense. The blood in our veins is still partly Icewalker, isn't it? That other part doesn't make us evil," Cameo gritted his teeth as she probed for internal injuries and broken bones, though Krystalin had made it clear that he would live through his torture to see an execution.

"Either way we're stuck here until she gets back. She locked the door," Psikaris said glumly.

* * *

Zanaya was feeling very pleased with herself. Knave's mind and body were exhausted from their play and that left him vulnerable to her suggestions. She'd often wondered whether she possessed a hint of mind control, she got what she wanted too often to be co-incidence, but the high priests hadn't found any evidence either way. Still, a woman had her own brand of mind control when it came to dealing with hormone-driven men. His naked body was, she grudgingly admitted, quite comfortable to lie against, like a giant teddy bear, but knowing what he was made up for any satisfaction she might have gotten.

Lazily trailing her finger along his chin she gently turned his head towards her. "You know, I've always wanted to see Third Earth, but I'm curious. Why do you think we're headed there?" she asked as coyly as possible.

"We're going on a secret mission, only Cameo, the captain and myself know," Knave replied.

She pouted and stared at him with eyes full of hurt. "Why can't you tell me?" she asked, managing to sound as though she were on the verge of tears. "You trust me, don't you?"

"I trust you but..." he jerked up, ears straining. "We've got visitors," he hissed, rising to his feet and dressing quickly. Zanaya cursed the ill-timing of the intrusion. Another few seconds and she would have had what she wanted.

The doors to the cargo hold opened, revealing Krystalin and seven security officers. They fanned out and began a systematic search of the room. "Knave Iespyk, surrender yourself immediately by order of Krystalin of the House Neijin. If you do not we will shoot to kill. You have to the count of five."

The odds were poor, even with her help Zanaya knew that Knave would be taken easily or killed trying. "Surrender," she whispered. "I'll take care of everything else."

He kissed her firmly on the lips once and then stepped out into the open, immediately being grabbed upon doing so. "I turn myself in, though I've done nothing wrong," he said evenly. The guards formed a ring around him and escorted him down the hall to his quarters.

"Go get the scum from my office. This room'll serve as a holding cell until we're ready to execute them," Krystalin said to the guards. "Your little freak uprising is over."

* * *

Nitro Iespyk was the first to cross the threshold of Aristarchus' manor, despite the protests of many of his people who insisted that it wasn't safe, that he was too important. He scoffed at their concerns. He didn't get where he was today by being soft and taking the easy way out. His mother hadn't been that way, not from what little he remembered of her. He'd been young when they, along with his father, had journeyed to Third Earth. His father often told tales of her daring exploits, and never once had she taken the safe route. No. She stood in the thick of things, doing things the Icewalker way.

The manor house was severely damaged. The site of the explosion looked the worst, naturally, but the heavy pounding from ground and air forces had decimated large portions of the rest of the structure and grounds. The loyal forces to Aristarchus were being rounded up or had surrendered, meaning the rescue operation of King Tycho could begin soon. Nitro led the way through the battered halls, stopping briefly to inspect a painting that had fallen, until they reached a Reptilian Mutant who had died with a stunned look on his face and a hole in the back. Nitro spat next to the body. "Kaprenius' work," he muttered, turning and seeing the formerly barricaded door. "Start the rescue operation here. I'd lay good money the king's in that pile of rubble somewhere. Be careful though. The surrounding structure's unstable, we don't want any more casualties."

* * *

The boy looked hopefully at the doctor as the latter sat at Shade's side. "I'm sorry, Tajengo, there's no change in her condition. I think you're going to have accept that she might never come out this coma. We'll continue to do everything we can for her. I promise," he said, patting the Darkling boy on the head. "Go home and rest. We'll let you know if anything changes."

Tajengo looked once more at the frail woman laying in the bed, her vital signs working steadily. He felt guilty deep down; the last words he'd said to her had been to calm down and wishing that he were anywhere else. Now he didn't want to be apart from her. The doctor was right though, he knew that much, there really wasn't anything else he could do.

* * *

It was typical of his memory. Whenever he was depressed, Tycho's thoughts would invariably turn to how he'd gotten in this mess in the first place. A family dinner with Aristarchus' family had been the start of it. The two families were tightly bound due to their proximity to the throne, but there was a debate going on over whether Tycho's mother or Aristarchus' father had the closer tie. And so this dinner had been arranged to try and mend any fences before the big announcement was made in a few days.

Tycho had been sick that day. He'd considered begging off, but knew that he was expected at the table. His illness had saved his life, as it turned out. Of the dozen at the function, all but himself and Aristarchus had died. The soup was to blame, a lethal dose of poison had been added to the broth. By an amazing co-incidence, to hear him tell it, Aristarchus was allergic to the fish in the soup and hadn't had any. Everyone knew he'd done it, but a serving boy was found to take the blame, signed confession and everything, and found hanged in his cell before further questioning could be made.

Aristarchus had milked the incident for all it was worth, lamenting how he could have been a victim of this angry serving boy were it not for a twist of fate. The gods, he insisted, must have had a hand in it to spare his life, ignoring that Tycho too had been spared. He didn't forget though, he couldn't; especially when the scholars decided that Tycho was the true heir to the throne and not Aristarchus. He'd been very careful about what he ate since that day, and had had the chief of police replaced at his earliest opportunity.

"Tycho?" Eluosi asked, interrupting his thoughts.

"Yes?" He replied, his voice sounding hoarse. He wondered how long they'd been there. Several hours at least by his rough estimation.

"Where are we?" She asked. He explained it to her as best he could, though he wasn't a hundred percent clear about Darius' powers. "Oh. That explains some of it. Ugh. I can't move my arm." Her voice carried a note of fear. Tycho could hear her feeling around and her shriek of terror made him jump. "It's on the other side."

"What is?" he asked, already suspecting and dreading the answer.

"My forearm is outside Darius' shell," she said, starting to become hysterical.

"Relax," he said, sounding unconvinced. "There's nothing we can do about it right now. Once we're freed the doctors will hopefully be able to do something about it. We don't have much air in here and panicking will use it up quicker."

"I know. I know. But I'm scared. I don't want to die like this," she sobbed.

"We're not going to die. Someone will find us," he said, mentally adding "I hope."

* * *

The scenery had been racing past at a good clip, leading Aristarchus and his entourage to think that they might get away after all. Mystan knew better than to be that optimistic. Icewalkers were notorious for being exactly where he didn't want them to be and Gravitons were unpredictable when enraged. So it was that he was the only one not taken by surprise when the car the eight of them were travelling in hit an icy patch on the road, and careened into a copse of trees. They looked so smug, the trio of Icewalkers who emerged from the brush. The one on the right seemed to be the one in charge, as he ordered the other two to round up the prisoners.

Mystan hated Gravitons the most, the foul beings disbelieved in the gods and flaunted their laziness as much as possible. Icewalkers didn't rank much better, however. They placed their faith in their kin and their brute force, resorting to religion only when that failed. Their only saving grace was that they believed at all. That wasn't true, he knew. They were formidable fighters and many even acknowledged that their strength was god given.

He reached out with his mind towards the leader of the group, while Aristarchus' people fumbled for their guns. He found the man's brain with ease, these fools were ill-equipped to contend with a Psion of his level. Knowing that time was of the essence, he began squeezing the man's brain with his telekinetic abilities, causing excruciating pain until the owner of the brain collapsed on the ground.

The other two Icewalkers were no fools. They knew that Mystan could kill them all with relative ease and speed, so they immediately encased the car in ice. They forgot that a good telekinetic didn't need to see his target. Mystan's mental eye slid from the dead man's corpse into the female Icewalker, the one who was in the process of laughing at their predicament. The laugh turned to pain as Mystan forcibly pulled her heart out through her chest, spattering her companion in her blood and gore. Methodically Mystan then grabbed the last one, even as he turned to run. Indulging in a personal bit of pleasure, Mystan made this one's death drag out a little longer. He started crushing the man's bones, one by one, stopping only when he sensed the life had drained from his victim.

As he brought his mind's eye back into his body, Mystan was aware that his companions were suitably stunned and horrified by what had transpired. Breaking free of the ice had been no trouble thanks to their laser weapons, and the view through the window was, no doubt, gruesome to Aristarchus' guards. Mystan wondered if any of them had ever actually taken a life before or whether they were merely toadies and yes-men. The only one who seemed unaffected by the circumstances was Aristarchus himself. He nodded his thanks to Mystan and gestured for the driver to continue on their way.

* * *

Krystalin's office was quiet. Even after detaining the three crossbreeds, she had interviewed a handful more people. None of them would admit to knowing anything about the murder. Frostella had been generally well liked, a paramedic on her first assignment. She'd been eager to prove herself worthy of the posting, but had maybe used her lineage a bit too much for some people's tastes. That still didn't blatantly give any evidence that the crossbreeds did the deed. Nothing did except for racial prejudice and Knave's threats against the kitchen staff. Still, the evidence against them was around somewhere, it just needed to be found.

Curiously, her door opened and closed of it's own volition. She walked over to examine it but could find nothing obviously wrong with it. She would make a note to have one of the engineers inspect it later. She was feeling a little warm, which was a curious sensation as her blood kept her body temperature very cold. Krystalin checked the thermostat and saw that it was acting normally. It was probably just the adrenaline dying down from her encounter with Cameo and Knave. She walked over to the desk and saw the door open and close again. Getting annoyed, she punched the intercom. "Krystalin to maintenance. Send someone to my quarters." She paused, waiting for a response that didn't come. "Maintenance. Respond." Still no answer. "Krystalin to the captain." She started getting annoyed and marched over to the door. She didn't know much about electronics but knew that some of these systems were tied together. Perhaps the door and the intercom were in this category.

The door wouldn't open. Not only that, but it was definitely feeling warmer in here. She could see the ice armour she wore dripping on the floor. Something was very wrong here. All the systems in her room weren't connected, were they? That didn't make sense at all. Krystalin marched over to her desk where she kept a side arm hidden away. As she stooped to pick it up she saw a fresh sheet of paper on her desk with a message written in red ink. "You were getting too close. Sorry," it read.

Sabotage. There was a killer on board and it *wasn't* the half-breeds. As she stormed towards the door, gun in her hand, she tried to go over every piece of information that her interrogations had revealed. What was it that she had been close to? Was one of the interviews the killer? "My own killer too, if I don't get out of here," she thought, irritated as the blast from her gun scorched the door and did little else. The heat in the room was becoming uncomfortable, chunks of the ice armour were falling off as Krystalin ran to her closet and produced a heavy sledgehammer. If she could crack open the door, the temperature might level off, or someone might hear her and come to the rescue. She swung powerfully at the door, the clang of metal on metal jarring her arms, but she struggled on, knowing that death lurked close by. Again and again the hammer crashed into the door, each swing becoming weaker than the last. The armour was completely gone, leaving Krystalin wearing little more than undergarments, and sweat was beginning to seep out of the pores of her skin, but she didn't let it bother her. She couldn't afford to.

The sledgehammer grew too heavy to lift and Krystalin knew that she didn't have much time left. The door was dented outward but hadn't bent enough. She slumped to her knees, fingers scraping against the door as she did. This was how it was going to end for her. Not at all like she'd expected. Contrary to what Mystan believed, Icewalkers did believe in god, one of them anyway. The warrior goddess Lunis. They believed that she would lead the bravest and strongest warriors to her kingdom, where they would feast and battle forever. Krystalin prayed silently that she found her worthy of this honour, that she would watch and protect Captain Havallance, and that she would be avenged.

* * *

"Yes, Chillaura? What is it?" Captain Havallance asked of the long haired woman seated at the communications position.

"Um, all inter-ship communications are down. Must be a bug in the thingamajig. I'll check it out," she replied, moving from her seat to the floor and removing a panel. He watched her for a few minutes before stretching.

"I'm going to retire for the night. If you get that thing working, inform Krystalin that I'll be by shortly to get a briefing on her interviews," he said.

"Aye-aye captain!" she replied.

* * *

Zanaya counted the minutes in her head as she lurked in the hall, invisible to anyone who might happen by. Almost an hour had passed since she'd begun hot-wiring the systems. The thermostat first then the intercom, as the latter was bound to be noticed by someone. The doors were trickier. She had known that once the letter was dropped off she would have very little time to get out and jam the doors. Luckily she knew a thing or two about sabotaging Icewalker equipment. The pounding on the door had stopped about fifteen minutes ago which likely meant that Krystalin had run out of strength or was trying something else. Either way, it didn't matter. The message had been sent, the blame for Frostella's murder shifted away from Knave, and if Krystalin died as a result, so much the better.

She had been tempted to stay in the room and watch the death, but didn't want to chance being found. Besides, she'd seen death often enough to know what a future corpse looked like. Just because there was a personal edge to this one didn't make it different.

The door at the end of the hall, leading to the stairwell that separated the decks, opened and the captain strode out, flanked by a security guard. Zanaya pressed herself further against the wall, not liking her lack of escape route. Krystalin's quarters were located near the end of the hall, with only the captain's room beyond it. She supposed that she could sneak into the captain's room, but that was tricky, and he might notice the door opening. She watched as he walked closer and paused at Krystalin's door. He could see it bulging outward and ordered his guard to fetch reinforcements.

"He's all alone," Zanaya thought nastily to herself. "I could kill him too. Knave said to wait, but he's not in charge here. I'm saving his sorry ass. No. Not yet. If there is no captain, the crew might take their frustrations out on Knave and I need him alive for a little while yet." Since he was all alone, however, she was able to slip past him and move further down the hall towards the stairwell.

Moments later a detachment of six security officers arrived and began the arduous task of opening the doors. A pair of paramedics soon joined the efforts until finally one of the doors was removed. Krystalin slumped forward into the hall, caught by one of the guards who happened to have been on one knee as he worked. He stared in surprise at the warm, almost hot, body before him. The captain gestured for the security force to sweep the room, Zanaya noticed that he seemed too overwhelmed to speak, and the doctors to tend to Krystalin.

The security staff emerged a few moments later, themselves starting to sweat in the heat, and shook their heads. Captain Havallance sent them on to check every room on the floor for any signs of intruders while he inspected the panel on the wall, searching for clues as to the killer's identity.

Zanaya watched the doctors lift Krystalin on to a board that they'd brought with them and cart her away. The security detail too, seemed very sombre as they methodically checked every room on the floor. Zanaya was good. She wasn't rated one of the best for nothing. Even though she'd been sleeping in one of the rooms up here, there was no trace anywhere to be found unless she wanted it found. Soon the commotion faded, the detail posted four people outside the captain's door while the rest retired for the night. Zanaya too decided to turn in, once she was sure that her stolen room wouldn't be searched again.

* * *

Tycho found that talking to Eluosi helped them both keep their minds off the horrible situation they were in. She recited lines from a play she'd been in the month before and he told stories of his family. He carefully avoided mentioning Darius, not wanting to bring her mind to their imprisonment and her arm. They'd discovered a small hole in Darius' shell that was allowing for some small amount of air to seep in. It wasn't much, but he suspected it would buy them some time.

It wasn't easy. Even the slightest bit of movement served as a painful reminder to Eluosi of her predicament, and the faint noises they could hear terrified them both. What was happening outside their prison? Had the loyalist forces come to their aid yet or was Aristarchus comfortably in command now that Tycho was presumed dead? He glanced in the direction of the actress and heard her singing a song from a musical she was looking forward to taking part in during the coming season. A story of lovers stranded on a strange planet, no friends, no family, just the creatures they met and each other. He'd promised to see it on opening night. Assuming they weren't still trapped in here then. They had no food, he realized. No water either. He could also feel his bowels churning and a sense of dread over the solution crept over him.

* * *

"So this is how it's going to end," Psikaris said glumly.

"Don't say that," Cameo replied, one arm loosely draped around her shoulders, though he figured she was right. He'd never thought it would end this way. A firefight in space, some lucky Darkling fighter craft catching him off guard. Something like that. Executed as a traitor? Not so much.

"Why not?" Knave asked, laying flat on his back on his bunk. "Why deny the truth? From the moment they found that body they had us pegged as the killers, and we hardly did anything to dispute their claims. Face facts, Cameo. They want us dead and they're going to make sure they get us dead. The whole interview process was a sham and you know it."

"Knave. Not in front of the lady. She's clearly upset by this and you're not helping things," Cameo said, wanting both to rise and shake the half-Thunderian and wanting to shield Psikaris from all of this.

She pulled away from him a bit and stood. "I can take care of this myself, Cameo. Thanks. I'm not afraid of dying, but I didn't want it to happen like this. That's all. A traitor's death. Psychro will be mortified. Anyway, whatever happens happens. There's nothing we can do about it now. I suggest we all catch some rest and see what the morning brings."

* * *

Zanaya drifted through the dream realm and found herself walking on a barren rocky surface. The sky was black, dotted with tiny stars. A chill went up her spine as she felt a presence. It was the gods. She'd encountered them only once before, and that had been with the oracle to guide her. It had been unforgettable, that day, the feeling of pure power and knowledge coursing around her. It was said that there were only four gods, and that they had divided the responsibilities of the universe evenly between them. She feverishly looked around, trying to find them, knowing deep down the futility of it. If a god didn't want to be found how could she expect to find them. But why bring her here otherwise? Was there a way to visit them on one's own?

"You are here because you have been summoned," a voice said, making the very air rumble. Her heart hammered at the sound of the voice, it was not the gentle masculine voice that had guided her career track, but a harsh feminine one, and it didn't sound happy at all. Where seconds ago had been nothing but air, now stood a muscular, heavily armoured woman. In one hand was a sword, in the other a gun. She gestured with the former. "You are correct. I am not pleased with you at all. I govern warriors, and one of my champions has fallen at your hands; a champion who cried out for revenge." The gun raised and pointed at Zanaya's head, she closed her eyes and braced for death.

It never came. She opened one brown eye and saw the barrel of the weapon still smoking. "You are fortunate that you are under another's jurisdiction. I am forbidden to kill you so long as his hand protects you," the goddess intoned. Zanaya knew enough not to feel relief at the pronouncement, this goddess was angry with her and there were many fates worse than death. "Though I govern the warriors I also am a goddess of love, and I have witnessed your tryst with the half-Lunatak. I have ensured that his seed takes root within your womb and you will bear him a child. I am also, I should point out, the one who decides difficulties in labour," The grin the goddess flashed was a malevolent one and Zanaya knew that Lunis meant that any complication or symptom a woman could have was about to befall her. "But do not believe that birth will ease your troubles, little worm. This child you bring in to the world will cause you heartbreak and pain. Before long, you will be begging me to take your life. Then, and only then, will you know peace."

Zanaya blinked and the goddess was gone and she was back in her own bed, drenched in sweat. She touched her stomach fearfully, remembering every word that had been said. Knave's child, heartache, pain, a lifetime of torture. It was too much to bear. She turned on her chest and wept in her pillow.

* * *

To the average creature of Third Earth, Dark Side was a place to be avoided. Accessible only by traversing dangerous terrain, including the Fire Rock Mountains, it was also the home to some very dangerous creatures; not the least of whom were Luna's Lunataks. The woman in question rode her Guardian, Amok, across the rocky terrain near which their movable fortress had landed. The others would have questions for her, assuming they'd noticed she'd been gone almost half a day.

A simple raid on a Wollo village. That's all it was supposed to have been. But then she'd come across that miserable Snarf, Pumyra and the Thunderkittens. They'd been telling a story about Luna's grandmother, the original Queen Luna, and her magic belt. That belt had been the main reason for coming to this backwater world and for all her searching for information, it was a Snarf that knew the location. Of all the creatures in the world that could have been harbouring this secret, it would be Snarf.

Getting Amok to damage the pyramid of Mumm-Rana had reduced the undead sorceress to a weakling, and had allowed Luna to don the belt. She'd grown in power and strength immediately. But the power proved too great for her, it overwhelmed her and caused her to act without thinking. She'd disposed of Amok and gotten over-confident dealing with the Thundercats. In the ensuing battle, the latter had freed Mumm-Rana thanks to the Sword of Omens' magic. Repairing the pyramid was an ability Luna didn't know the sword possessed.

With Mumm-Rana in the fight, Luna had fallen, the belt had come loose and Amok had taken steps to ensure that she could never regain it. She wasn't sure what to think of Amok's actions, really. He was always so loyal and helpful to her, so this act was almost out of character, but she knew, deep down, that she'd probably deserved it for treating him as she had. Not that she would ever admit it to anyone, but she did care for him. He didn't have ulterior motives for being nice, unless the occasional confectionary treat counted.

She stared up at the imposing Sky Tomb that was fast approaching. They had stolen most of the supplies from the surrounding villages, but had used what little was left of their original shuttle to complete it. Once again she found herself cursing Mumm-Ra for bringing their shuttle down in this desolate wasteland. If he hadn't done that...

Alternately, if they hadn't tried to wrest control of Third Earth away from him out of spite, he might have been only too happy to help them defeat Mumm-Rana. She shook her head. It was Mumm-Ra's fault. Not their own.

They finally got close enough that whoever was on monitor duty lowered the elevator. As the duo climbed in, it occurred to her that it would be best if she told the other Lunataks about the belt sooner rather than later. They wouldn't be happy to hear about it, but it was better that than them finding out about it on their own. She would let them vent a bit, if they wanted to, but Amok was good for quieting them down.

* * *

Alluro and Red Eye were in the control room when the doors hissed open. The Psion had spent his life reading people's emotions by their expressions and body language, and found the sight of Luna and Amok an odd mixture. Luna was definitely unhappy. She was slouched, her lips were pursed and her eyes challenged him to make a snide remark. Amok, on the other hand, looked smug. He walked a little straighter and his head was higher. Ordinarily the Guardian fed off his mistress' energy, mimicking her moods, but not this time.

"Welcome home, Luna," he said, deciding that Amok's good mood would allow him to get a few shots in on his boss. Reading Amok's posture was key in avoiding those large fists of his. "Judging by your lack of supplies and the hour, I take it the raid didn't go as planned. Or is running from Wollos a plan?" Red Eye decidedly kept his back to the Lunatak leader, preferring not to get involved, and made a poor show of looking at the various cameras they had inside and out of Sky Tomb. From his seat, Alluro could see a small smirk on the Darkling's face, however, and knew that he was paying full attention.

"I got... sidetracked. I found the magic belt but the Thundercats and Mumm-Rana destroyed it," she snarled.

Something in the way she said it told him there was more to the story than that, but she was in a stubborn mood and he knew there was no point in trying to pry the information out of her. "You mean your grandmother's belt?" he asked instead. "The belt we travelled half way across the universe to find, that belt? And it's destroyed now? Oh very good work, Luna. You've wasted time and resources to destroy a magical fashion accessory. I don't think even Tug Mug could have screwed up more." Alluro knew immediately that he had stepped over a line. Amok's eyes widened and he lunged at the hypnotist, narrowly missing. "I believe my watch is over," he said, bolting to the door.

Luna let him go. It had been a long day, and both she and Amok were fatigued. "I'm going to my room," she said icily to Red Eye, her tone indicating that waking her would be akin to signing a death warrant.

Once she was gone, Red Eye began to chuckle out loud. "Tug Mug could have screwed up more? Ha ha. Good one Alluro," he said.

* * *

Kaprenius lurked in a storeroom next to the kitchen. He'd made a serious mistake in not fleeing with his father, he admitted now. The grounds were crawling with Lunataks loyal to the crown, closing off any chance of using the secret tunnels to get out. He'd spent the last three hours trying avoid the search parties as they moved from room to room. Now it looked like his luck was running out. A pair of Gravitons had discovered the kitchen and were in the process of raiding the cupboards. He prayed that they would stay in there, as there were no other exits from the storeroom. "Maybe there's mustard een here!" he heard one of them say, in that accent of theirs that made them sound stupider than they really were.

"See eef they have any onions while you're een there," the other replied. The door opened and the portly Graviton waddled into the room, causing Kaprenius' heart to sink even lower at the sight. It was the same Graviton whom he'd had beaten. The man sported a deep purple bruise across his jaw line and a metallic glove to replace a hand that had been too badly mangled to save. The man surveyed the room, scanning the shelves and barrels until his eye alighted on the fugitive hiding behind a sack of flour.

"Come out, whoever you are," Roly Poly said, causing his companion to come to the doorway. Kaprenius took a deep breath and aimed his laser pistol at the Graviton instead.

A flash of light momentarily blinded the Royal Lunatak and his gun suddenly felt a hundred times heavier than before. "Oh no you don't," the second Graviton chuckled, tapping his gravity carbine.

"Wait a minute... Eet's Kaprenius!" Roly Poly said, an evil chuckle escaping his lips.

"Don't worry, son of Master!" Rodin cried, leaping on the back of the second Graviton. Kaprenius was mildly startled to see his father's Guardian still around. He'd assumed that the creature would have followed Aristarchus on the way out. Apparently not, and Kaprenius was not one to let such a diversion go to waste. He grabbed a handful of flour and threw it in the face of Roly Poly as he charged forward.

There wasn't much room to manoeuver in the storeroom, but that would prove a greater hindrance to Roly Poly, given his girth. Kaprenius was the less experienced fighter, however, more accustomed to the slow Mutants that he favoured hanging around. He connected solidly with a right hand on the already injured jaw of the Graviton and got a second punch in to the other side before Roly Poly could see clearly enough to retaliate. He shoved the Royal into a rack with assorted spices and let loose a punch of his own, mailed fist colliding with stomach. Kaprenius wheezed as the air was forced from his lungs.

"So, you theenk eet's fun to beat up people?" Roly Poly asked, kicking the younger man when he tried to stand up. "Ees that your idea of fun?" Another kick, this time harder. Kaprenius stopped the efforts and stared fear struck into the eyes of an angry Graviton. "I don't theenk eet's fun being hit. Why don't you tell me what eet feels like?" Roly Poly glanced behind him and saw that his partner had managed to bind Rodin. He reached to another rack and pulled down a rolling pin.

"No! Please! I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" Kaprenius implored, raising his hands in the air.

"Begging for mercy? I seem to recall doing the same thing as your men beat me," Roly Poly's eyes were as hard as his metallic hand. Kaprenius was certain that he would be killed in this storage room, surrounded by herbs and spices. Not exactly a glamourous death. The rolling pin swung down, the sound of wood crackling as it smashed the shelf over his head and Kaprenius' cry of terror mingled in the air. Nutmeg, pepper and a number of other spices showered down around the lad. "You're lucky I'm not like you." Roly Poly grabbed Kaprenius' still raised arms and hoisted him to his feet.

"Hey look. He wet heemself!" the Graviton chuckled, prodding Rodin forward with one hand and collecting his sandwich with the other.

"He'll be doing more than that when we bring heem before the court," Roly Poly replied, thrusting Kaprenius out into the kitchen and gathering his own sandwich. "I'm going to vote for an execution. We haven't had one een a long time."

Kaprenius could only swallow as the two prisoners were led out into the courtyard where all the prisoners were being kept. He wasn't sure what a Graviton death sentence entailed, but the look on Roly Poly's face indicated that it was a long and painful one.

* * *

There was noise. Tycho was distinctly aware of hearing a noise that wasn't being made by either himself or Eluosi. It sounded like many voices and things moving around. He nudged the woman gently and he heard her shift. "Listen," he said.

"Are we being rescued?" Eluosi asked hopefully, knowing that it was equally possible that it was Aristarchus' people going through the rubble.

"I don't know," he responded. "But it's a promising sign either way. We don't have to hold out much longer."

* * *

Nitro had abandoned the excavation site some time ago to inspect the prisoners they'd caught. Even though the local forces were technically in command, they still acknowledged his authority, and it felt good to reenforce this perception. The crown jewel of the prisoners was Kaprenius; his father had eluded the search parties thus far but it wouldn't be long. The discovery of three Icewalker bodies some distance from the compound indicated the direction that Aristarchus was going, and Kaprenius would break eventually.

The prisoners were gathered in a garage. The vehicles had been moved out, and the prisoners had moved the rest of the goods to one side. It had either been that or encasing them all in ice, and Nitro didn't want to expend the energy of his people on such a trivial task when there was a hopeful rescue to complete. He walked over to where Kaprenius was sulking, kept apart from the other prisoners and under constant watch by a pair of Gravitons. Nitro knew the fate that was in store for the boy and didn't envy him.

"If you tell me where your father went," he said, "I might put in a good word for you. It won't set you free, but your execution will go quicker."

"My father may yet be Lunar King," Kaprenius said, his cracking voice betraying the fear he felt. Nitro had a reputation. "If Tycho is dead, then Aristarchus is the true king. He'll free me. You'll see. I'm his son, after all."

Nitro laughed a good hearty laugh. The boy was right, but he reeked of urine and fear. It was hard to believe the boy was Aristarchus' son at all. "I wouldn't count on it. There are too many people looking for your dear old dad. They have permission to kill if he won't surrender. I suspect your father won't be saving anybody today."

"Coldwin to Nitro," a voice crackled over the radio. "We need you back here. We may have found them."

"Understood. I'm on my way," Nitro said. Then, turning back to Kaprenius, "You'd better start praying they're still alive."

* * *

The light was fading fast by now, Nitro noted as he returned to the explosion site. There was a team of people working on one particular spot. Off to one side he saw dogs being led by their Royal handlers, searching to ensure there were no other bodies. Nitro had been present when a Simian Mutant had been found, a discovery that had raised hopes momentarily. As he got closer he could see a large, green, egg-shaped thing on the ground, from which a hand and forearm protruded. There was still a fair amount of debris covering it, but the teams were working quickly to get at it.

From his vantage, Nitro could tell that the hand belonged to a Lunatak, or at least certainly not another Mutant. He walked briskly over and assisted in the removal of a large chunk of plaster. When the egg shaped thing was fully uncovered the team began trying to lift it and found the task almost impossible. Whatever it was, was hard as rock and twice as heavy. A Graviton with a carbine was called for immediately.

Slowly, the thing raised off the ground revealing the two prisoners, both blinking in the light of the flashlights that were being shone in their direction. Nitro could see that the hand belonged to Eluosi and was likely too far gone. The king, on the other hand, looked ragged and tired, but little worse for wear. He saluted as the paramedics moved in to tend to them and outlined what had happened since the transmission.

Tycho listened patiently, glancing over at Eluosi from time to time to see her progress. When the report was finished, and the doctors had finished poking and prodding him for injury, he asked a few questions of Nitro and Roly Poly, the latter having arrived shortly after hearing that the king had been found, and then insisted on seeing Kaprenius for himself.

* * *

A cheer rose from the onlookers as Tycho approached the garage, and he graced them with a wave of the hand. Word had gone on ahead to have Kaprenius brought forward for his interrogation. He stood, flanked by two Gravitons and an Icewalker, and stared, his jaw drooping, at the trio of commanders headed his way.

"Kneel before your king," Tycho said, eyes focussed on the man who'd tried to kill him. When Kaprenius hesitated, a Graviton kicked the back of his knees and held him firmly on the ground. "Good. Now then, where is your father?"

"I'll never tell you. If my father found out it was me who told you... I'm more afraid of him than I am of you," Kaprenius said.

Tycho turned to Roly Poly. "He's been like this since we got him," the Graviton said with a shrug.

"What I wouldn't give for a telepath right now. Alright then, Kaprenius. You can play your games. As king of the Lunar empire, I pronounce you guilty of the charge of highest treason against my person and the state. I sentence you to death in whatever form the Graviton people see fit. Take him out of my sight and do your worst, Roly Poly," Tycho intoned for all to hear. The Graviton councilman gestured to his men and they took their prisoner away to prepare him for transport. Tycho then looked to Nitro. "Send out heavily armed patrols to find Aristarchus. Advise your men not to engage him unless necessary, only follow and wait for us to mass our forces. We still have the advantage of numbers, that's something we must use to its full effect.

"Agreed. We will find him no matter what hole he crawls into," Nitro saluted.

* * *

Captain Havallance decided to let the three hybrids rot in their cells through the night. They certainly had nothing to do with Krystalin's murder, and probably not Frostella's, but that didn't excuse their recent actions. When morning came he went down to see them personally.

The door opened and he found Cameo and Psikaris cuddled together on the lower bunk talking quietly. Knave sat at the desk carving into the top with a knife, one that had somehow escaped a weapons search. All three turned around immediately on his entry. "I have no choice. I have to let you go, for now. I'm going to be watching your every move though, so keep your noses clean," he said.

"I told that bitch we were innocent," Knave said, jamming the knife into the table and rising to his feet.

"That bitch, for your information, is dead. If it weren't for the fact I know you were in here all night, I'd try you for her murder too," Captain Havallance said, eliciting gasps from all three.

"Krystalin? Dead? My god," Psikaris murmured.

"We apologize. We didn't know, right Knave?" Cameo said, casting a dangerous look at his room mate.

"Oh, of course. I'd never say something like that about the dead," Knave said, rolling his eyes.

The captain didn't seem to care either way. "I figured the three of you might want to make an appearance at Frostella's funeral ceremony. You've got two hours to get dressed before then."

* * *

The search patrols lasted well through the night with very little in the way of leads. All known residences and businesses owned by Aristarchus were investigated thoroughly, but no trace of the man could be found. Even though he was exhausted, Nitro insisted on staying up through the night. The king had gone with Eluosi to the hospital, but had since returned to stay with Darius. He'd tried to explain the process of shape changing to Nitro, but he'd found it far too complicated and just accepted it as being possible.

It wasn't looking terribly promising, he had to admit. The longer Aristarchus was out of sight, the more likely it was that he would find additional forces. There were reports already of an attack force building on the Psion Moon. The Darklings were likely doing the same, and that didn't bode well. But if they could capture Aristarchus, it might throw the opposing forces into enough disarray that any invasion would be called off.

"Still nothing," he said, hearing Tycho approaching.

"Why does it have to be this way?" Tycho sighed, staring up at the Icewalker.

"How do you mean?"

"All this conflict over the throne? I hate politics. But Aristarchus is determined. Too many lives have been lost over what amounts to a fancy chair and a glorified title."

"It is the way of things, my king. Lunataks have always striven for power and glory, through countless ages it has been this way, and for countless more it shall be. I too despise these political games, all the backstabbing and trickery. My people have been called barbaric and primitive, and maybe we are, but we are also honest and open about our true intents. We shed blood in defence of our home and our loved ones. We battle only for honour, and yearn for a death on the battlefield. This is why my people have never desired to rule the empire. We are content to be the ones called upon when the elite fighters are called for. Men like Aristarchus nauseate me. Were our roles reversed I would not be hiding with a motley crew, I would be standing here before you prepared to either kill or be killed."

Tycho stared at him for a long moment, uncertain as to how to respond. "And that is why I respect you," he said finally. "There are few who would speak openly and honestly. This is a virtue many lack, and why I am honoured to call you friend. For now, though, I'm going to return to Darius. Thank you." Nitro watched the young man depart.

* * *

"How barbaric! How primitive!" Zanaya seethed, watching the ceremony. The mess hall and been re-arranged somewhat. At one end was a wide open space with a podium and seating for six. After the space were the regular tables and chairs, compressed to accommodate this gap. Seated in the first group of chairs were three doctors, two security officers, and the captain himself. He had already said a few words, imploring the Lunar gods to accept Frostella's soul. The mere mention of Lunis sent chills up the Psion's spine, remembering the dire prophesy. Once again her hand unconsciously touched her abdomen where, apparently, a child was beginning to form.

The head doctor came up next and said a few words about her dealings with Frostella, and she was followed by a distant cousin of the deceased. Once the tedious speeches were done with, the captain gestured and a cart was brought out, revealing the source of the succulent smells Zanaya had detected when she'd entered. Frostella's corpse had been stripped, the body shaved of hair, and cooked. Zanaya suppressed a gag reflex at the sight and reiterated her sentiment on Icewalker behaviour. The captain gestured to the cousin who took a ceremonial knife and hacked a chunk of flesh from the thigh.

"It is by eating the flesh of our kin, that we honour their memory. I invite all those present to come forward and share in this moment," the cousin said, before chewing the piece of meat. Zanaya decided not to accept the invitation, but noted with some disgust that everyone else eagerly moved in.

She wasn't even sure why she'd come. It wasn't like she'd known the deceased. She'd only really met the woman as she'd killed her. That didn't count, did it? Zanaya supposed it was mostly to see how her murder of Krystalin had gone, how much people knew about it yet. There was certainly plenty of discussion and rumours going around. Some still thought that Knave, Cameo and Psikaris were behind it. That they had somehow rigged the systems in Krystalin's room before being locked up. And the dark looks they were giving the hybrids suggested this was a common sentiment. What of it then? The prisoners were free, she'd have Knave back where she wanted him, and she could find out the missing piece of information.

"You're not in a safe place," Knave breathed into her ear. She jumped, surprised that he'd managed to sneak up on her. She was usually pretty good about such things. Then again, she had a lot on her mind. He fumbled for her arm and pulled her out into the hall. From there they made their way to his room.

Zanaya kept quiet on the way. Though the halls were seemingly deserted, there was still a danger of running into someone. But when the door closed she could hold her tongue no longer. "You people are disgusting. Eating Lunatak flesh without hesitation. How can you do such a thing?" she said, this time giving into the wave of nausea that overtook her.

"What? That? That's nothing. You have to remember, food on the Ice Moon is scarce. Long ago we realized that we couldn't waste a chance to eat. The death of one meant life for others. Besides, it really doesn't taste bad. Not compared to some of the other races. When you try eating a Horse Mutant you'll understand," Knave said.

"You eat other races?" Zanaya asked, growing more disgusted.

"Sure. Why not? We get prisoners on occasion, and we make use of them. I don't see why you're so upset. Don't tell me your high and mighty Psions are so pure and innocent. I've heard my Psion prisoners begging me to send their brain back to their family," Knave said.

"That's different," Zanaya said, trying to come to terms with all she'd learned. "We honour our dead."

"So do we. To be eaten by ones loved ones is the greatest honour we can have."

"Maybe to barbarians. Remind me never to become part of your family," she snapped, wincing as she remembered whose child it was she carried. "When someone dies on the Psion Moon we carry their body into the middle of the desert to the great burial grounds. Because fertile land is so scarce we must do this far in the heart of the desert. I acknowledge that we do remove the brains, and they are placed beneath the great temple of the ages. It's believed that the residual psionic energy is drawn from the brain and flows back into the temple, strengthening our prayers and our spiritual leaders."

"So you're saying you believe in a lot of magic. I've eaten Psion brains and I've never gained anything from it except a stomach ache," Knave said, snickering.

"How dare you insult my people!" Zanaya said. "The power of the brain is sacred to us, and you despoil it by eating it? You disgust me." She turned on her heel and left before she could say anything more, a distant part of her brain reminding her that she needed him alive and in love with her. She would fake an apology later. Right now she needed to vent.

* * *

Cameo didn't notice Knave's abrupt departure, as he chatted with the three other pilots onboard, including Zero. It had been a pleasant service, very moving the way that Frostella's associates spoke of her. He remembered Krystalin's words, reminding him of her family's dislike for hybrids and wondered momentarily what they'd have thought of three such beings taking part in the funeral lunch.

"Not bad grub," Zero said, licking his fingers of grease. "Y'know, I've been to some of these funerals and they do a crappy job with the cooking. I remember one time they overcooked the body so bad that most of it was still left at the end. That's a travesty." Cameo nodded politely. He'd heard all about it the day after. "Now my mom's funeral, let me tell you, that was a good one. They over did it with the spices but I felt proud that day."

"The cook onboard is pretty good," Cameo said.

"Hey, I wonder what they'll do with Krystalin's," another of the pilots said suddenly, causing the other three to go quiet. "It's funny, but I wondered what she'd taste like a couple of weeks ago."

"You did, did you?" The captain's voice asked. "Perhaps we'll let you out of shackles long enough to find out."

The pilot's face paled, turning to meet the angry eyes of Captain Havallance. He glanced at his companions and knew that they could do nothing to help him. "I didn't mean it like that. I've wondered how a lot of people taste. Heck, I wonder how I taste. I wouldn't kill anyone to find out. Never. Not me, no." The captain continued to stare until the man shut up and resigned himself to his fate. He turned and allowed himself to be escorted out.

* * *

Tycho jerked awake, remembering where he was. His head rested on the protective dome that Darius had become, he must have fallen asleep in that position. At some point someone had draped a blanket over him and, presumably Nitro, assigned a guard to watch over him. Seeing that he was awake, the guard saluted crisply.

"No news to report sir. Aristarchus is still on the run and no new prisoners have been collected. Eluosi is still in intensive care, they're hoping to update us soon. Lunch is available near the prisoner area. I can take you there if you wish," the guard said. Tycho stretched and indicated the guard should lead the way. He'd slept longer than he'd expected, if they were serving lunch.

Things looked different in the harsh light of day. Aristarchus' once beautiful manor was now ruined. He cast his eye on the section where he had been held prisoner. Most of the larger pieces of masonry and debris had been removed in the effort to rescue him, so it didn't look too bad by comparison, though the sight of it still made him shudder.

* * *

Toran sat on a mat in the centre of a circular room. The room was strictly off-limits to all but the high priests, as it was a place of great power. The commonly held belief was that brains were stored throughout the basement in the temple and that the residual psionic energies were released back into the building. This was only partially true. When a Psion died his brain was sorted by the type of energy within; telekinesis, pyrokinesis, telepathy, and so forth. The powers flowed from the grey matter into a series of batteries. These could be drawn upon by the high priests to augment their own powers. The oracle roomed directly above where the batteries were stored, granting him extraordinary abilities.

It was one of telepathy that Toran was using, granting him the ability to transmit his thoughts across the spatial void and beam them directly into the mind of Mystan. "Mystan. The oracle has spoken, urging haste in putting Aristarchus on the throne," he said, relaying the vision as well as Psipe's interpretation.

"I see," Mystan said. He sounded strained and tired. "We've narrowly escaped capture and are reduced to very few. Our only hope now is Tycho's death."

"I concur. If Tycho were to die then Aristarchus would be king. The people will resist at first, but bloodlines are bloodlines, and the gods know we've had rulers with greater flaws," Toran said. Luna's husband, Piscaar had taken the throne in her absence, and there had been so much bloodshed afterwards that he'd been known as Piscaar the Red.

"I believe that Kaprenius may be of use to us in appeasing the people. I haven't spoken with Aristarchus yet, but if he were to distance himself from his son, blame him for Tycho's capture, there may be enough people who will believe such a claim as to make the transition between rulers easier," Mystan said, the mind link allowing him to transmit the image to better convey his meaning.

"Then I leave it in your capable hands," Toran said, feeling drained already from the effort. He broke the link and allowed himself to lie back for a quick rest. He wouldn't be able to enjoy it for long. There was much to do, and little time to do it in.

* * *

Shade too was remembering Piscaar and his reaction to the loss of Luna. "It is with heavy heart that I learn that Queen Luna was unable to return to our moons. As her husband I take the throne in her stead and will rule as she would have ruled. I am certain that Luna would want those responsible for her loss to be held accountable. Therefore, my first act as king will be to declare the senior staff of the Excelsior to be guilty of a conspiracy to commit vile treason. They will be executed at once and their properties declared the possession of the crown."

The response was immediate. Twenty people arrested on the spot, each taken to prison to await their deaths. Family members were evicted from their houses at the hands of the military, and known associates were rounded up for interrogation. The populace grew unsettled and rebellious even as the first person faced the firing squad. A distraught wife tried to prevent her husband's execution and met death as well, shot by a blast from Piscaar's own pistol; it was an event that marked beginning of the riots.

Shade had been there at the execution. She'd known some of the crew, and felt badly for them losing their lives, angry as she was over her father being gone too. She'd witnessed the infamous pistol blast, and watched as a Darkling nearby threw the stone that inspired others to join in the riot. She'd gotten caught up by the frenzy and joined in hurling projectiles at the new king, but had recognized the danger when the military began using deadly force.

The capital became a death trap. No one was permitted to leave, even though large sections were in flames. The military's full force was turned on crushing the rebellion, killing anyone in the streets who looked like they were up to no good. Paranoia and fear reigned, not Piscaar.

Things only got worse when a trio of Lunataks, two Psions and a Graviton, murdered Piscaar. Instantly a dozen claims to the throne arose, and forces from all five moons were gathered to argue their position. The riots spread further, engulfing first nearby cities, and then spreading to the whole moon. It was only when it threatened to spread to the other moons that things began to calm down. Leaders from the other four moons stepped in with their armadas and ordered a cease fire. It didn't stop the arguing, but reduced the violence accompanying it. With calm restored, the bloodlines of the surviving candidates were examined by a committee, and a leader was named.

When he was found dead in his bathtub, poisoned drink in his hand, the other moons gave up and retreated to their home moons, each believing that they should be in charge of the Lunataks. In the end, hundreds had been killed under Piscaar's reign, and thousands more after. Shade had never been more pleased to return home than she had when the spaceports were finally opened to general travel.

* * *

The funeral for Krystalin was a much more sombre affair than Frostella's, as word of what had happened to the pilot who spoke ill of her spread. He was present, but sported a fresh set of bruises on his face and refused to speak to anyone.

For his part, Knave felt unsettled attending. He knew far too much about what had happened to the woman, and his thoughts seemed to drift back to the argument he and Zanaya had had the day before. He wasn't sure why he was so upset by it either; he'd been in arguments before and had never felt this bad from them, so why now? Did it have something to do with his base emotions? That weaker Thunderian side of himself? He tried to recall if he'd ever felt this way when he'd argued with his mother, but couldn't conjure anything up and dismissed that train of thought. He scented the air, curious as to whether Zanaya would show up to another funeral, but couldn't find her. He decided to go looking for her, but was stopped at the door by the new head of security, Paeder of House Snowskin.

"Going somewhere?" she asked, blocking the doorway with her body.

Knave recognized her immediately and suppressed a snicker. From her appearance, she looked like she had escaped his father's harem and joined the space force. Such a notion made it hard for him to take her seriously. "Actually, yes. I was planning to go to my room. I find funerals rather boring," he said.

"Is that so. Or are you off to visit your accomplice in Krystalin's murder?" she asked. "You see, I figured that our murderer would be one of the first to leave the funeral, and you happen to be the first. Not very bright of you, especially given your recent actions. I think a little more time in the security office is in order." She took hold of his arm and pulled him out into the hall, headed once more for questioning.

* * *

Tycho split his time, in the two days now since his rescue, between Eluosi's bedside and Darius. The former was in poor spirits as the doctors tried to coax her arm into working again. The options were running out, and the fear was that she would have to have it amputated. Even with Tycho's assurances that he would have his best scientists create a fully functional robotic arm for her, she was depressed. It wouldn't be the same no matter how much science went into it. She bemoaned that they had better get married because her acting career was over.

It tore at the young king to see her in such pain. He felt guilty for her situation and promised that he would always take care of her. He would get Darius to work on the necessary preparations if she was still willing to get married when she was checked out.

Thoughts of that reminded him of the other burden weighing on his mind. Poor Darius. He still wasn't responding, trapped in that rocky form. He was alive, they could feel a faint pulse beneath the hard exterior, but was either stuck or unconscious in some manner. Roly Poly had graciously arranged for the changeling to be carried to a more secure location and a guard to watch over him, but there was little else they could do. Tycho felt so helpless and alone. Darius had been with him since he was very young, almost since birth.

He felt the presence behind him. "My king, you wear yourself out," Nitro stated. Tycho looked up at the older man and nodded weakly. He was right. Nitro was often right. He glanced over at where Eluosi was sleeping peacefully. She would be fine without him for now, as would Darius. He had people who would update him. But it felt wrong to return to his luxurious quarters while the two people he cared about weren't able to do likewise. "Tycho Lunar, you will go home and go to bed. The empire cannot afford a weak ruler. Aristarchus and his ilk would take advantage of that," Nitro said. Tycho nodded again and obeyed his elder.

* * *

Zanaya reclined on Knave's bed, waiting for him to return, and so was startled when the door opened and it wasn't her source. It was the other two, returned from the despicable funeral no doubt. She cursed inwardly at her predicament, unable to leave or move much without alerting one or the other to her presence. She watched as they sat on the lower bunk opposite her, Cameo's hands lovingly, massaging Psikaris' shoulders and neck, her hands lovingly holding a technical manual.

"You know, 'Karis, we've got the room to ourselves for a while. I doubt they'll be letting Knave out any time soon," Cameo said, brushing her hair to one side. Zanaya's eyes widened. Knave was caught again? How many Icewalkers did she have to kill for this man?

"I'm not like the women Psychro brings home," she said, scowling slightly, though the words were a relief to the Psion spying on them.

"I know, I'm not asking for that. But there's plenty else we could do," Cameo said hastily, trying not to offend the woman he'd only been dating for a few days.

"Fine. You get five minutes and that's all. I've got important catching up to do. What if they ask me to tune up the life support systems tomorrow? You don't want to die because I don't know which wire goes where," she said, setting the manual aside and turning to face him.

"You're all the life support I need," he replied, taking her head in his hands and kissing her gently.

Cursing all Icewalkers and their libidos, Zanaya weighed whether the lovebirds were engrossed enough that she could slip out the door. She doubted it. Cameo was facing the door, and opening it would doubtless catch his eye. There was nothing for it but to wait it out.

* * *

Knave stared into the cold eyes of Captain Havallance as he hung a set of shackles in the security office. "Let's review, shall we? We have reason to believe that you were involved in the murder of Frostella of House Whitestar, you threatened two members of my crew, and were possibly involved in Krystalin of House Neijin's murder. Am I missing anything? Are there any other bodies we should know about?" he asked. Paeder stood smugly behind the captain, holding a baton menacingly.

"Why should I bother answering?" Knave asked. "You've decided my guilt without evidence. You're going to come up with some flimsy reason I should be executed or left behind on Third Earth. I know it. You know it. Even your bimbo knows it." He yelped as the baton was introduced to his ribs. She was stronger than she looked.

"Such arrogance. I see why Nitro was hopeful you wouldn't return," the captain said, seeing no point in denying the truth.

"Icewalker law allows me to challenge your authority through combat. If you weren't a gutless coward, I would do so now," Knave hissed.

"It does indeed, and I will accept. Tonight, after dinner, we will fight til one of us can no longer stand, then I will deliver your skinned hide to Nitro personally, and he will reward me greatly for doing what he should have done long ago. Oh, and tradition also says nothing of what Paeder can do to you before we meet for battle. I'll have your last meal brought up in a few hours. That should give my, bimbo was it, plenty of time to teach you the meaning of pain." Captain Havallance chuckled at the hybrid's predicament and sauntered out of the room whistling, leaving Knave quite alone with Paeder and her closet of torture devices.

* * *

Tycho walked briskly through the halls of the hospital. He'd scarcely left the place, it seemed, before Nitro had called him back. Eluosi had awakened and was desperate to see him, Nitro had said, and it was imperative that he be by her side to attend her. This confused the king greatly. Two hours before, Nitro had been insistent that he go home. Now he was telling him that his place was with her? Something didn't feel right, which is why he had summoned the two Icewalkers that currently flanked him.

The room was dark, something that made him extra suspicious. One of the Icewalkers entered first and turned on the lights. Eluosi had a rag over her mouth and was out cold on the bed. Nitro was nowhere to be seen, but the guard he'd stationed in the room was dead.

A burst of energy struck the Icewalker, killing him almost instantly. Tycho's own pistol was out in the blink of an eye, locking on Aristarchus, standing just beside the door. The other Icewalker glanced at his companion and readied a fireball. The two members of the royal family stared hard at each other. "Another death on your hands, Aristarchus, and you won't be able to wiggle out of this one," Tycho said. "Surrender yourself."

"You think you have the advantage, do you?" Aristarchus moved out, further into the open. "We both need the same thing, Tycho, the death of the other. But only one of us has the courage to make the killing stroke. So long as I'm alive, I am a threat to your reign as king."

"Then I will be forced to sentence you to execution. I warn you, Aristarchus, surrender now and justice will be swift and painless," Tycho said.

Aristarchus kept his gun level with Tycho's chest. A single blast, as evidenced by the Icewalker's demise, would prove lethal. "You would let someone else mete out your justice? I was right. You are a coward. Enjoy this minor victory, the battle is far from over." The royal had, without Tycho really noticing, made his way closer to the open window. Without warning he leapt out. Tycho and the remaining Icewalker sprinted over and saw Aristarchus floating gently to the ground. Both ducked backwards as Aristarchus fired at the open window, cracking the surrounding brickwork.

"Follow him," Tycho said, cursing to himself. He should have had people surrounding the building before coming up here. Aristarchus had a telekinetic on his payroll, apparently, and that complicated matters. He joined the Icewalker in running through the halls and down three flights of stairs. But by the time they got outside, Aristarchus and his companion were long gone. Glumly, Tycho returned to the room.

Eluosi was still asleep, though one of the hospital staff, alerted by the commotion, had removed the rag. Knowing that he would be unable to enjoy the luxury of sleep himself, Tycho picked up his communicator and informed Nitro of what had happened. If they moved quickly enough, he hoped, they might be able to catch him this time. With that done, he sat down in the chair next to Eluosi and rested.

* * *

To the few Icewalkers who hadn't witnessed it before, Nitro's rage was frightening. To know how close they had been to capturing the traitorous Aristarchus, and to losing his king, aggravated him. That Aristarchus had used his own voice to pull it off made him even angrier. He posted extra guards on Darius and Eluosi, and increased the number on Tycho's person. If Aristarchus wanted to try to kill Tycho again, he would have to work for it.

Roly Poly's Gravitons likewise doubled their efforts, sending every available soldier out to comb the city and surrounding area. It didn't matter where the would-be king hid, they were determined to find him. They left no rock unturned in their efforts. And yet, with all eyes focussed on the ground, no one noticed the pair drifting silently through the clouds in a telekinetic bubble.

* * *

It was with an undignified thud that Knave hit the ground, his bruised and bloodied body slapping against the floor. Paeder had done her job well, she'd been ruthless and thorough. No bones broken, but every muscle ached and cried out for relief. A few minutes ago some soup and a glass of water had been provided as what was assumed to be his last meal. The food was bland and provided little in the way of sustenance, but he ate it anyway.

He was led down to the mess hall by Paeder and a pair of guards. The room had been transformed yet again, this time with the tables folded and stacked neatly in a corner. The chairs were arranged around the perimeter for an audience to sit and watch. Captain Havallance was doing some stretches as the group entered, but took a spot in the middle of the room soon after. The crowd quieted at Knave's entry, pointing and whispering. His condition was obvious to all, but well within the rules of the event. The guards escorted Knave to his spot, a few metres away from the captain, while Paeder stepped between them.

"According to the laws of the Ice Moon it is allowed that one may settle grievances with another through deadly combat. While this practice is rare, it is a useful tool, and its verdicts are final. Knave of House Iespyk has, today, challenged Captain Havallance of House Kolrad. They will fight unarmed until one or both can not continue. Anyone interfering in this sacred tradition will be killed on the spot. If, after two hours, there is no victor, the combatants will be permitted a short break and given knives. Every two hours after they will again be granted a short break," Paeder said, her tone indicating that she didn't believe the captain would need two hours to finish the hybrid. "Good luck gentlemen, and may Lunis guide you both."

Knave watched the woman walk out of the battle area and take a seat. He wasn't feeling very well, and knew that he would need a lot of luck to survive this combat. Blood trickled from many open wounds and the captain would take advantage of all of them. A whistle blew and Knave lunged forward, narrowly missing the captain's ribs with one feral swipe. Weapons may have been forbidden, but his claws were part of his person.

The captain cracked him sharply on the back as he went by, dropping him to the ground. It was only instinct that allowed him to roll free before the captain's boot caved in his skull. Knave stood slowly, watching the captain carefully to see where the next strike would come. As he'd expected, it came in the form of a stiff uppercut, one that Knave scarcely was able to avoid. Captain Havallance was quicker than he'd thought he would be. The two locked hands in a test of strength, the sneer on the captain's face grew wider as Knave was forced to back off a step.

In actuality, it was a calculated risk. The physical exertion and his rolling had left a thin smear of blood on the floor. As the captain stepped forward to press his advantage, his foot caught in the gooey mess and he slipped to the floor. Knave pounced then, his body crying out for a rest already, and savagely slashed his superior's chest. Knave was weak, though, and couldn't maintain his dominant position. The captain quickly pushed him off and wasted a precious second looking stunned at his shirt. "First blood," Knave hissed.

"Last blood is what counts," Havallance replied, closing the gap again.

The two traded punches and kicks for a time, with Knave taking the worst of it. He was getting desperate now. His blood stained the floor and the clothes of both men. He could feel his energy depleting rapidly, but he refused to give up.

"Your father will be pleased with me. My house might even gain a promotion," Havallance chuckled, circling Knave as he panted for air. The hybrid's eyes lit up at the mention of his sire, spurring the adrenaline necessary for him to lunge at the captain again. He punched hard into the groin of Havallance, causing him to crumple to his knees. Anger drove Knave's fists into the head and jaw of his opponent for a time before flowing away, forcing Knave to his own knees. The two men stared at one another for a long time, each trying to muster the strength needed to finish off his enemy.

Knave watched, his eyes a mixture of hate and horror, as the captain lurched to his feet. The man kicked out with one leg, but Knave found himself toppling forward at the last second, and the captain fell again. He crawled forward, summoning every scrap of energy he could to grab hold of the captain's leg and sink his teeth into the meaty calf muscle. A solid kick to the head tore Knave, and a good sized chunk of flesh, from the captain's prone form.

He begged the world to stop spinning long enough to mount a final assault. Captain Havallance writhed on the ground, his leg bleeding profusely and unable to support his weight. A dim part of his mind told him that the crowd was watching intently, each onlooker wondering who would come out of this alive. Paeder was leaning forward, trying to determine whether to call the match or not.

The captain cried out again and tried to roll on to his knees. He inched forward, closer and closer to Knave. His eyes were unfocussed and his movements shaky and jerky. Knave tried to will his body to defend itself but could hardly raise himself off the floor. "Do it for me," a voice whispered in his ear. It was Zanaya. What was she doing here? A final surge of adrenaline coursed through him. His lover had asked a favour and his honour dictated that he oblige.

Finally getting to a kneeling position he watched the captain expend his energy crawling closer. Knave gathered his reserves into one final strike, a vicious slash to the exposed throat of the captain. A fountain of blood erupted like a volcano at the attack, covering Knave's face with the fluid. Both men tumbled, one on top of the other, to the floor. Paeder rushed in, declaring the fight finished.

* * *

Cameo glanced over to the small desk, where Psikaris was making notes from a book. She'd muttered something about trying to improve the power efficiency of the life support system and had lost him after about the fourth word. He hadn't heard anything from Knave since his capture several hours ago and wondered what had happened. The duo was startled when the door opened, revealing Paeder. "Cameo of House Mymekon, come with me," she said, her gun drawn. Having no other choice he did as she asked.

* * *

Curiously, Paeder led him past the security office and into the captain's quarters, but he assumed it meant Captain Havallance was the one wanting to speak with him. It was doubly curious, then, when he found the office area empty. Paeder walked around the desk and settled on to the plain wooden chair the captain had had installed, and gestured for him to sit.

"Since the captain died, I have assumed command of this vessel until I hear from the Ice Moon," she said. Cameo's eyes widened, he hadn't heard of the captain's death and said as much to the woman. "Ah right. Your friend challenged the captain to fight to the death. He got lucky."

Well, that explained what had happened to Knave. Cameo found the woman's tone disturbing on some level. She clearly had a dislike for him, though why he couldn't say.

"We carry on with our original mission. There's just one problem. The captain's files are all heavily encrypted. What I *have* been able to learn is that only three others know the purpose behind this trip. Nitro and Knave of House Iespyk, and yourself. Of those, I can't reach one and the other is in the infirmary. Which leaves me with you. I don't like you and I don't trust you. While Havallance reluctantly felt that you were innocent, I do not. Your kind has mixed loyalties. Tell me, would you betray us to the Solarians?"

Cameo sighed. It was a lot of information to digest, and the accusations against him weren't helping at all. "Against a pig-headed person like you, I might," he snapped. He was used to dealing with questions about his heritage, but he'd never met such resistence as he had the last couple of days.

"I thought as much," Paeder chuckled to herself. "Now that we've established that you're not trustworthy, I want to know everything about this mission."

"We're going there because we want to see if you can breathe in space when we push you out the airlock. Look, I'm not telling you anything until I have proof that you're in command. Maybe this is a coup and the captain's really being held prisoner somewhere," Cameo snarled, standing up.

Paeder rose too and crossed briskly to the door. "You want proof? We'll go to the infirmary and get you your proof then."

* * *

"This ees Roly Poly to Tycho. Come een Tycho!" The communicator at his side sounded. The king and Nitro were talking quietly by the copse of trees where Aristarchus' Psion must have been hiding.

"Go ahead, I'm here," he answered.

"We have good news! I'm with Darius now and he's starting to wake up. You should come quickly," Roly Poly said.

"He is? We'll be there shortly," Tycho closed the communicator and placed it back on his belt.

He was about to leave when Nitro grabbed his arm. "Wait. This could be another trap. I believe that Roly Poly was out on one of the patrols looking for Aristarchus. They might be trying to lure you there now. I'm going to call in some of my men to surround the area."

Tycho considered protesting, but decided that there was every chance that Nitro was right. The enemy had tried the same stunt earlier, there was no reason that they might not try it again. Catch him off-guard. He yawned and realized that he'd been pushing himself too hard. He needed rest. He needed sleep. But both could wait if there was any chance that the news about Darius was true. He and Nitro climbed into his borrowed car and drove away.

* * *

The face staring up at him was definitely Havallance, and the vacancy in the eyes and gaping wounds told Cameo that he was very definitely dead. The medical lab was bustling with activity. Three doctors were running around, taking care of the assorted injured. An engineer who'd sprained his ankle lay in one bed, a fellow doctor who was feeling nauseous was in another and, receiving the least attention, Knave.

Paeder watched his expression carefully, and when she was satisfied that he'd seen enough, she took him by the arm back to the captain's office. "Happy?" she asked. "The mission, if you please."

"Your people will probably crack the captain's codes eventually, so here it is. We're headed to Third Earth because we have evidence that suggests Chilla and the rest of Luna's crew is still alive," he said, proceeding to elaborate with what he knew. Seeing the captain's prone form had cooled his temper too. Paeder was clearly under a lot of stress with her double promotion, and he could almost forgive her nasty remarks about him.

When he was done explaining she leaned back in her chair, folding her hands and considered what he'd said. "It sounds improbable, downright impossible. But if Nitro and Havallance believed it..." her voice trailed off. "I'm not letting you off the hook, I still think you're up to something, but I can't hold you here. You're dismissed." Cameo managed a sarcastic salute before heading out the door.

* * *

There were no words in the Lunar language that Tycho could use to describe what he felt when he saw Darius sitting up. He looked exhausted himself, his shaking body wrapped in a blanket. He was eating a sandwich of some sort when Tycho and Nitro approached. There was an equal look of relief on the changeling's face when he saw his ward. Immediately, the king gave him a hug and kissed him passionately. The two pulled apart, embarrassed slightly by the public show of affection. "What happened, Darius?" Tycho asked.

"I saw the grenades and I reacted. I've never tried such a difficult transformation, taking in that much mass and energy in one shot is so very painful and straining. I knew you were safe, I could hear the two of you breathing but I couldn't hold on to consciousness and maintain the shape at the same time. I fought so hard until my body couldn't take it any more. I had to make sure that I wouldn't shape change back and be immediately buried in rubble. I just couldn't bear the thought of losing you," Darius said. "Then I find out you've been outside for about a day, meaning I went through a lot of that for nothing." His eyes twinkled with mischief, but beneath them Tycho could see the fear. Darius had been terrified of losing both his own life and Tycho's as well, and only the eyes showed the truth.

More than anything, Tycho wanted to gather the changeling into his arms and hold him tight, reassure him that he would never leave. But they were in public, and both men preferred to keep their love more private. It was with that in mind that Tycho announced that they would be retiring back to the palace to rest and recover.

* * *

The one thing Mystan wanted above all else was to be away from the Royal Moon and back on his home moon. Mostly it was because at least there he was respected enough to be listened to. He'd told Aristarchus that he could handle Tycho's death more easily than he could. No pistols, no rifles, he'd hardly have to be in the same room as the king. But Aristarchus was a proud man, one who insisted on doing things his way. He'd wanted the privilege of the kill himself, and would not listen to reason.

Of course, back on his home moon Mystan would have the opportunity to rest. His mind had been pushed to new limits, carrying himself and Aristarchus through the sky for miles. It was a miracle that he'd been able to land in a dignified manner at all. The small group was hiding in a pastry factory on the outskirts of town, it was listed as being owned under one of Aristarchus' pseudonyms.

To make matters even worse for the Psion, Aristarchus had suddenly decided that maybe Mystan was right. Maybe he should let the telekinetic do the dirty deed. Now, of all times. He was asking the impossible, Mystan's mind could scarcely lift a sheet of paper, let alone crush the internal organs of another man. Rest. A lot of rest. He'd commandeered an office and locked the door, with instructions that he was not to be disturbed for at least a day. Until then he would be sleeping and meditating, building up his reserves and clearing his mind.

* * *

Likewise resting, though for different reasons, Knave lay in the medical facility aboard the Honour of the Moon. He watched the staff running around, performing their varied tasks. He wasn't sure what half the equipment in here was for, and figured he didn't really want to know. He examined his body, surprised that it was in such relatively good shape for all he'd been through. A bag of blood flowed into his veins, restocking the fluid he'd lost. He was covered in scratches and bruises, however, and it made it difficult for him to tell where one wound ended and the next began. He raised his hand to his temple and scratched at the scab there.

A nurse walked purposefully towards him and pulled his hand away from the injury. "Don't do that. It won't heal if you do," she snapped. He winced at the physical contact. "Oh, did that hurt? I'm so sorry." Her voice filled with sarcasm.

As Knave stared at her in confusion, a bulb turned on inside his head. She'd been at Frostella's funeral, the cousin who had said so many kind words about her kin and praying for vengeance for her killer.

"Word going around the ship has it you're suspect number one," the cousin said, knowing that Knave had recognized her. "A creature like you should have been killed at birth so that decent people wouldn't have to deal with you." She kept her voice low, and methodically applied an ice pack to his head, pressing as hard on the wound as she could. Her eyes challenged him to protest his treatment, knowing he wouldn't.

Gritting his teeth, both from the pain and to refrain from saying anything, Knave kept silent, feeling relieved when she finally let up the pressure and went off to do some other work. Once she was out of earshot he whispered a foul epithet in her direction. He would have to remember not to get injured again on this mission. He was just starting to drift off to sleep again when Cameo approached his bedside.

"I heard what happened," Cameo said, crouching beside the bed.

"Sorry you missed it. He deserved it," Knave said, still riled by the doctor.

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't say that kind of thing out loud. Paeder is the temporary captain and she's looking to put our heads on the wall. I told her about the mission, I think she would have turned this ship around if I didn't. Even money says she tries to leave us behind," Cameo said, checking his companion's injuries. The quantity was stunning. In many ways, Cameo was surprised that the half-cheetah was able to move.

"I wouldn't waste money on a sure thing," Knave sighed. If he couldn't figure some way to gain control of the ship, he might be spending the rest of his natural life on a planet he'd scarcely heard of while his father took the credit.

"Our best bet is Chilla," Cameo said. "Paeder will listen to her. If she says we go, we go. Only problem is, she's probably just as old fashioned as the rest of them. Crossbreeding was virtually unheard of in her time."

"That fashion was young when she was around," Knave snorted, but agreed with the reasoning. House Iespyk was one of the most powerful houses on the Ice Moon and Chilla, as the oldest member of it, would be the default head. He wondered if his father had realized that when he'd sent them on this mission. Either way, Paeder would have to listen to one of her ranking. "You'd better do the talking then, when we get there. It's obvious what I am, on you it's only there if you're looking for it. Create a good first impression before she knows it."

* * *

All was right with the world, Tycho thought as he draped an arm protectively around Darius' sleeping body. Sex had been out of the question, both were too tired to do much, but he'd found there was greater intimacy in some ways in just holding on to your partner. This was what made him happy.


	4. Chapter 4

Heritage of the Lunatak Empire by Jonathan J. Prideaux  
Chapter 4

The next two days breezed by as Tycho and Darius spent much of their time trying to get the capital back under a normal routine. They dealt with common problems, intervening on important court cases and handling mundane issues involving pricing and harvests and all the other chores that fell on the shoulders of a ruler. When not involved in such day to day events, they were working hard to figure out where Aristarchus and his crew were hiding. The usurper had been suspiciously quiet, ever since that night in Eluosi's hospital room, which unnerved the king.

Eluosi. That was another issue that Tycho was worried about. The woman was refusing any cybernetic enhancements to restore her dead arm to life, and nothing else was working. It was frustrating for him to watch such a talented actress throw her livelihood away over such foolish pride. Cybernetics were unnatural, she said. So were cars and ships, but she still used them. There was hardly anything that was completely natural anymore.

Darius padded over to him, seated at a desk in the king's room. His presence brought a sense of order back to Tycho's troubled thoughts. In fact, it was hard right now to be frustrated with Darius around. The changeling didn't say a word, merely massaged his shoulders, easing the remaining tension away.

She was a grown woman. Eluosi could make whatever decision she wanted and he would support her right to do so, no matter how wrong it felt. She wouldn't need to be focussing on her career soon anyway, once they were married...

"What is it?" Darius asked, feeling the tension returning to Tycho's body. The latter turned around and gazed up into the concerned eyes of his Guardian friend.

"I've been thinking. After all I've put her through, I should probably ask Eluosi to marry me. It would be the right thing to do," Tycho said, a touch of sadness in his voice.

"Oh," Darius replied, his only reply for a long time. "I understand. Let me know when you do and I'll make the necessary arrangements. I support you." He turned away sharply and fled the room. Tycho understood too, he understood that his friend needed time to weep.

* * *

Alluro stepped back and admired his handiwork. The Automaton was truly his most brilliant idea yet. A robot that could think on its own, and yet be controlled remotely. It had started out as a joking remark from Tug Mug that what they really needed around Sky Tomb was some manual labour that wouldn't complain, and could Alluro build one. The answer had been "Yes. Of course. I'm Alluro, and I can invent anything, you foul smelling creature."

Tug Mug had not let him forget about it. Not for the three months of intensive labour. Step one had been obtaining, dissecting, and analysing a Berbil. After that, the remaining steps fell into place one after another. Obviously the scale had needed to be upgraded, and a specific look was needed. The answer to that one had come after a rather one-sided encounter that Red Eye had told him about with the samurai warrior Hachiman. It made Alluro feel superior to have Hachiman doing his bidding, even if it was just a robotic facsimile.

Of course, mass producing the things would be labour intensive in and of itself. They had neither the man-power nor the raw material to build an army of the things, so for now one would have to do. Unless Luna's latest scheme destroyed it.

She was still smarting from one of many encounters with the Sword of Omens, and had been intrigued by Red Eye's tale of his lop-sided battle with Hachiman. Tug Mug had been interested too, but that was merely for the purposes of rubbing salt in the wound later. Luna surmised that if they could get their hands on the Thundercutter they would have the perfect weapon to counter Lion-O's famous sword. Since neither sword could be wielded by a person with evil intentions, a creature devoid of intent was needed. The Automaton.

"It's about time, Alluro. That fool Hachiman will be visiting the Thundercats soon, and it just so happens that I know of the perfect ambush spot along the route he plans on taking," Luna said. Alluro didn't question how she knew these things. She always seemed to have sources, and refused to divulge who they were.

"That's if we can get there, Luna," Red Eye said from his station at the monitors. "There's a powerful storm moving through Dark Side. We're being hit hard by wind and snow." He gestured at the monitors. Sure enough it looked like the storm would be raging through the area for several hours, including along the route Hachiman would be taking.

"That's of little concern to me. In fact, that will help us. The ambush spot requires us travelling through the Valley of Chains. Legend has it that an evil wizard put a spell on the area, causing chains to rise from the ground and ensnare the unwary, but that these chains dislike the cold and should leave us alone," Luna said, having her great steed Amok pace up and down, and punctuating her sentences by slapping her hand with her riding crop. "I will go on ahead and lie in wait along the path, posing as a helpless child. I will then lure Hachiman into a cave nearby where Alluro and Chilla will be waiting. Red Eye will have to stay behind, if Hachiman sees him he might realize it's a trap."

"What about me, Loona?" Tug Mug asked, bouncing.

"You will stay here and assist Red Eye with Sky Tomb," she replied simply.

"Wait a minute, Luna. I'm picking up something on the long range sensors. A ship of some kind..." Red Eye announced. He stared at the monitor, punching buttons and looking at the readouts. He turned slowly to the others. "It's Lunatak."

* * *

The Tower of Omens, home to the Thundercats, lay nestled near the Forest of Mists, the only known route through to Dark Side without crossing through the Fire Rock Mountains. The Mountains gained their name from the naturally occurring Thundrainium that was buried there. This rock weakened all Thunderians, and thus was something to avoid. On duty were Lynx-O, Lion-O, Snarfer and the Thunderkittens. The latter three were preparing the Tower for the arrival of their old friend; Hachiman.

"Any sign of Hachiman?" Lion-O asked. He wasn't overly concerned, there was little that the samurai couldn't deal with on his own, but he was travelling near Dark Side and that was enough to make even the bravest fighter hesitate.

"Not yet, Lion-O, but my long range sensors are detecting something strange approaching. A ship of some kind. I can't quite tell what kind, but it's moving quickly. I will alert Cat's Lair. Perhaps Panthro can use the Feliner to investigate," Lynx-O replied, his hands deftly moving across the braille board.

"It's too dangerous for that. There's a storm coming and they might not be able to re-enter. Besides, we don't want to alarm anyone that might mean us no harm. Keep an eye on it and let me know if anything changes," Lion-O replied.

* * *

On the bridge of the Honour of the Moon, Paeder watched as the blue speck grew larger and larger through the window of the ship. There it was; Third Earth. She'd heard tales of it, of course, and had wondered what it would be like. She informed the woman at the pilot seat to set the ship in orbit over the co-ordinates where Luna's shuttle had originally gone down. She examined the monitors, checking the weather patterns over the pyramid structure. There was a nasty storm there, but there was also one over the crashed site area. She would need solid proof that it was safe before risking this ship in those storms. And there were just two people perfectly suited to such a foolhardy task.

* * *

Cameo was napping when he got the call. Captain Paeder had come to deliver the message in person and miffed that Knave was not present. He got to his feet and followed her up to the medical lab, where the other hybrid was clearly getting restless.

The nurse, too, was clearly less than pleased at her patient's presence, an opinion that Paeder tended to share. She advanced to where the pair was arguing, Cameo still following. "What are you doing still in bed?" she demanded.

"I'm trying to get out of bed, but someone seems to have something lodged in her rear, and won't let me. I wouldn't want to offend our new captain by slugging a doctor, now would I?" Knave responded. His sarcasm making it clear that he was feeling somewhat recovered from the battle.

"No you wouldn't. You and Cameo are going on a trip down to Third Earth to make sure it's safe for the rest of us. When you've found what you are looking for, signal the ship and we will land nearby. Do not, I repeat, do not initiate contact. Do you understand?" she said, directing her question at Knave rather than Cameo.

"Not really, but I'm sure if you used smaller words. Now out of my way," Knave said, standing and leaving the room.

As Cameo shrugged helplessly and followed him, Paeder turned to the doctor and said "I hope you can set bones, because I'm going to break his legs when he gets back. If he gets back."

"If you need help, just ask," she replied.

* * *

Knave didn't go where Cameo expected him to. Once free of the medical lab he sprinted to the cargo hold and waited. His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared, catching the scent he was so familiar with. He walked purposefully and was startled to find only Zanaya's jacket draped over a box. He looked around in confusion, finally catching sight of the woman peering down from another stack of boxes. She grinned and hopped down before him, planting a kiss on his lips.

"So they finally let you out of there, eh lover boy? I figured you'd come here to find me eventually. I heard Paeder tell Cameo that the two of you are going down to the planet?" she asked, hand on his chest.

"We are. I'm so excited and nervous. There are so many questions. What happened down there so many years ago? Will whatever attacked Luna's crew attack us too? Will we really find Chilla and the others still alive?" he said, placing his hands on her shoulders, trying to convey his emotions to the girl.

She was excited all right, but not for the reason he supposed. She'd finally learned the secret. So, they thought that Luna's crew had survived the crash, eh? That meant Alluro too. If they could get such a master hypnotist back on the Psion Moon, they would be invincible. The others would be a problem, however. Luna herself would change the balance of power, and the Icewalkers would gain strength if Chilla were alive. Zanaya decided that she would have to play along a little longer and hope to get the chance to kill the others. And then? And then she would have to figure out some way to sneak herself and Alluro back onboard for the ride home. That didn't sound terribly promising, but she'd worry about that when the time came.

"I'll go with you, my love," she said as huskily as she could. "I need you with me, to protect me from all these people who would hurt me. And I might be able to help you down there in return."

"Of course. The fighters hold only one, but you're small enough that you should fit in there. On my lap if need be," Knave said, pleased that his lover was interested. He'd been worried about her reaction to the mission.

* * *

Cameo went through the pre-flight checklist with Knave, making sure that all the gauges and dials were turned accordingly. Knave knew the very basics of piloting a craft such as this one, and Cameo had given him a few last minute pointers, unaware that a pilot would be riding with him. If they should run into any enemies then Knave would be on his own. Cameo would do what he could, but he would be focussing on saving himself first.

Once the other's checklist was complete, he went through the same list for his own ship and waited patiently for permission to disembark. The hangar doors labouriously opened, revealing the planet below. Cameo took a steadying breath. The first rush of the engines propelling him always exhilarated him, and he reminded himself to stay calm. A voice over his headset gave him the okay and he waited for Knave's fighter to lurch forward, disappearing out the door. Cameo punched the ignition and he was soon following Knave out the hangar doors, diving for the planet the natives called Third Earth.

* * *

"Lion-O!" Lynx-O said with alarm, drawing the attention of the Lord of the Thundercats. "That ship. I've analysed the markings on it, and it's a Lunatak ship. Two small fighters have just left it and are headed towards Dark Side!"

"What? By Jaga! If the Lunataks gain reenforcements we're in big trouble. Get the Thunderstrike ready. You, me and the Thunderkittens will have to do what we can to prevent them from reaching Sky Tomb. And call the Thundercats at Cat's Lair on the way. We'll need all the help we can get," Lion-O said, dashing from the room. Deep in his heart of hearts he was scared. They had barely contained the Lunataks in the past. Now that there would soon be more of them, they would be hard pressed to do anything. Third Earth was in terrible danger.

* * *

In many ways, Red Eye's eyes were far more efficient than the computers on board Sky Tomb. He watched the progress of the twin fighter craft and projected their course manually in his head. He wasn't quite sure what to make of this development. For close to a year they had been trying to find some way off this miserable little planet to no avail. Mumm-Ra probably could have helped, but the price for asking favours from the devil priest was almost assuredly your soul. All the other Lunataks were waiting in the hangar for his instructions, and soon were off, using both the Ice Runner and the Lunattacker. He would follow behind with their moveable fortress and rendezvous along the way.

As he stared up at the image of the ship he wondered if Shade was on it. Was she even still alive. Mumm-Ra had insinuated that a lot of time had gone by since he'd first encased them in lava, an act that he would forever hold against him. If he was telling the truth, then it was possible that Shade was long dead. "She'd better not be, Mumm-Ra, or else."

* * *

Deep in his black pyramid, despite Ma-Mutt's whimperings, the ever living source of evil rested quietly. His numerous recent battles with the Thundercats had taken their toll on his magical energies, and he needed to recuperate, so the arrival of the new Lunataks went unnoticed.

* * *

Mystan watched from the window as a large cargo ship slowly lowered itself to the ground outside. These Royals were so easy to deceive, he mused to himself, loving the idea that they had gotten one over on them. Onboard were a dozen Psions and an equal number of Darklings. One of the more powerful telepaths had been the one talking to the search party and had managed to convince them that the twenty-four heavily soldiers were, in fact, confectionary sugar and gumdrops.

As they walked cautiously from the ship into the warehouse, Mystan recalled the heated argument that he'd had with Aristarchus. Certainly it was possible to have thousands of troops paraded here in a similar manner, but the time for a full scale war had passed. Subterfuge and stealth were the keys to victory now, and Mystan insisted on using them. Toran had pressed him again, urging haste in putting Aristarchus on the throne. The oracle was getting very insistent on that point.

Naturally, Aristarchus didn't understand nor did he care about such things. He wanted things done his way and it was only when Mystan threatened not to bring any of his men in that he'd finally relented. And now, here they were, the best of the best that he could find. Each one was loyal to Aristarchus, and would lead to Tycho's demise. Soon they would strike.

* * *

The whine of the engines slowly died, and the cockpit hissed as it opened wide, like the jaws of some fearsome beast. Knave hesitated a moment to allow Zanaya to exit without Cameo seeing her, and then slowly descended to the ground. The pair had chosen a clearing at the edge of a dense forest as their starting point, for it was in this region that the Excelsior's crew had gone down.

They were just considering the prospect of searching the forest on foot when they heard the sound of a vehicle approaching, a loud whistling sound that marked the arrival of a gleaming white craft. It was fairly small, and its landing struts were shaped like crescent moons. They could hear more noises of vehicles in the distance and knew that they wouldn't need to search out the Lunataks; the Lunataks would find them. A cloud of dust arose as the small craft touched down, briefly obscuring the pilot, but when it did Knave was overwhelmed. An Icewalker woman, her features unmistakable. "Grandmother," he whispered. "The story was true."

Chilla, too, seemed a little overwhelmed as she stepped off the Ice Runner and walked towards them. Were she to admit it, she would grant that it had been far too long since she'd seen another Icewalker, and the two before her were refreshing to see. Though, frankly, she'd been expecting her husband Ren to be leading any rescue party. What caught her most offguard, however, was that one of the two of them seemed to be half Thunderian, and he looked very familiar to her. This one ran up to her and knelt at her feet.

"Chilla, it is my honour to have found you at last," Knave said. "You have been away from the moons for such a long time, and I am pleased to have finally met you, grandmother."

She had been in countless battles before, received all manner of injuries including blows to the head, lacerations, and broken bones, but they all paled in comparison to the words that came from the hybrid's lips. "Grandmother," he'd called her. Such a concept was beyond comprehension. She would have more readily believed that the sky was made of cheese. "What did you call me?" she asked as Cameo approached.

"I thought we agreed to let me do the talking," he said, forcing Knave to his feet. "Excuse my friend here, it's a rather long story which we'd rather explain to all of you at once than telling it multiple times. And it looks like some of your companions are arriving." He gestured behind her where Alluro and Tug Mug were approaching. The former fiddled with the controls of his jet pack while the latter bounced into the clearing, coming to a stop next to the Psion.

"Hey look, Alluro! Eet looks like Thunderians and Loonataks can breed. Wait until Pumyra hears about this. Won't she be thrilled?" Tug Mug said, elbowing the hypnotist in the ribs.

"Of course, Tug Mug, but I suspect Chilla will be even more thrilled that you've turned your attentions elsewhere," Alluro mumbled, finally getting the jet pack to turn off.

"Don't worry, Chilla. My bed ees always open to you," Tug Mug said, leering.

"How many times do I have to ice you?" Chilla's eyes narrowed, and a stream of ice missed the Graviton's wheels.

"Careful, Chilla. You nearly hit me instead. I'm not the one hitting on you," Alluro said, glowering slightly.

"This time," Chilla retorted.

Any further arguing that might have ensued was stopped when the dragon shaped Lunattacker rumbled into view. The doors opened, allowing Amok and Luna to clamber out. The latter looked displeased as she focussed her glare and riding crop on all three of her cohorts. "Is this how we treat our guests?" she asked sternly. "It's been years since we've seen another Lunatak, and this is the first impression you want to give them?" Each Lunatak avoided her gaze, finding something much more fascinating on the ground. "I thought so. Please excuse my associates. As you no doubt know, I am Luna, queen of the Lunataks. You are here to rescue us, I assume?"

Knave's first thought was that they were there to rescue Chilla, strictly speaking, and not Luna herself, but he didn't think Cameo would approve of such a statement.

"We are indeed," Cameo said rather formally. "As I was just explaining to Chilla here, before the rest of you arrived, it would be best to tell you all what has happened since you left. Is this all of you? I thought there were five Lunataks, plus Amok."

"Amok *is* a Lunatak," Luna said crisply. "However, you are correct. Red Eye is back at Sky Tomb. Just follow us and we'll take you there."

* * *

The Thunderstrike, under Lynx-O's skilled hands, navigated the Forest of Mists with ease. The forest wasn't much of a forest, per se, but more of a jagged opening in the mountains that led through to Dark Side. It was dark within, but Lynx-O's braille board told him where all the rocky outcroppings were, and he'd yet to do major damage to the Thunderstrike. Once through this narrow gap he, Lion-O, Snarfer and the Thunderkittens were racing toward the Lunatak fortress.

* * *

"What are those idiots doing?" Paeder snapped, watching the proceedings on one of the monitors. "I told them not to initiate contact, and that's the first thing they do. I knew I should have sent someone reliable. Watch where they go and find a suitable landing site nearby," she said to the pilot, and then turned to a pair of security guards. "You two, go fetch that crossbred bitch from engineering. If Cameo won't stand down, we'll kill her."

* * *

Slowly turning the invite over in his hands, Tycho slowly sat down at his desk. The card was trimmed in gold and had crisp black letters inviting him to a formal dinner function at the home of Eluosi's parents. She had been released from the hospital, and this banquet was their way of thanking him for taking such good care of their daughter during the last little while. Obviously they had forgotten who it was that had gotten her in that trouble to begin with, he thought with a sigh.

It wasn't that he didn't want to go, although he really didn't, it was the timing of it. Eluosi was still recovering, Tycho himself was still recovering, and there was a madman out there who wanted Tycho's head on a silver platter. It wasn't practical to do so, and he'd made the mistake of saying as much in front of Darius and Nitro. No sooner were the words out of his mouth than they were climbing all over him, pointing out why he should go.

Nitro thought it would show weakness to turn it down, let the people and Aristarchus think that he was afraid to go out in public anymore. It would be akin to declaring Aristarchus the new king and running away; a tempting thought at times.

Darius saw a different angle. He agreed that in many ways he owed the Brythago family a debt for what had happened to her, and that turning down their invite may be perceived as wanting nothing more to do with her now that she was damaged goods.

Between the two of them Tycho knew that there was no way he'd be allowed to back out of it. At least he'd be able to beef up security at this function, and it would give him the chance to wear the formal robe Darius had bought him recently. He cast the invitation aside and went to have some breakfast.

* * *

Red Eye turned to face the door, curious about the new arrivals to Sky Tomb. The two small fighter craft had followed the Ice Runner and had landed outside, the hangar not being big enough to hold them, and now the pilots were riding in the elevator with the rest of the crew.

The two were engaged in conversation as they entered, one with Luna and the other fawning over Chilla. Curiously, the latter's blood pressure changed as he emerged from the lift and caught sight of Red Eye. He made a mental note to watch that one very carefully as he toggled his infrared glasses to the regular visual spectrum. As usual, it was Luna who took control of the situation. "Well, we're all here now so you can end the suspense," she said, as the gang formed a semi-circle in front of the two hybrids. Luna, naturally, was in the centre with Alluro and Tug Mug to one side and Chilla and Red Eye on the other.

"Absolutely," spoke Cameo before Knave could do so. "I am Cameo of House Mymekon and this is Knave of House Iespyk." A brief ripple of surprise filtered through the Lunataks. He continued. "I'm not sure how to explain things, but you have been gone from the Moons of Plundarr for over eighty years."

"Impossible! How would we still be alive?" Luna asked.

"Actually, Luna, I've suspected as much for some time," Alluro interjected, "Between things Mumm-Ra has said, and the state of our ship when we were freed from our lava prison, it stands to reason that we were trapped for a long time." He had actually estimated it as being much longer than the eighty years the duo had claimed, but felt no need to mention this.

"You were encased in lava?" Knave asked, incredulously.

"Correct. When we arrived, we tried to overthrow a powerful sorcerer named Mumm-Ra. As revenge he covered us in lava. He must have used magic to put us in a kind of suspended animation," Luna said, tapping her chin in thought.

"He only freed us again because he needed us to beat up the Thundercats," Tug Mug said, emphasizing his words by bouncing on his hydraulic wheels, and omitting that they had, thus far, been unsuccessful.

"Hnh. Well, that explains that. At any rate, we got word that you were still alive so we got sent to bring you home," Cameo said, his voice cutting off as the alarm began to sound. Instantly their guests were forgotten, and the Lunataks looked to the monitors.

"Speaking of the Thundercats, here they come!" Red Eye said, pointing.

"Excellent. Let's show the Thundercats what eighty years of technological advances can do," Luna cackled. The Lunataks split up, Tug Mug led Knave and Cameo back outside while the remainder went down to the hangar.

* * *

"There they are," Lion-O said grimly, watching as the Lunataks mobilized from their fortress. Panthro had sent word via radio that the rest of them were moving as fast as they could, and hoped to be there soon. He could only pray that they could hold off the Lunataks long enough for reenforcements to arrive. The Thunderstrike lowered, allowing the Thunderkittens, Snarfer and Lion-O to jump out safely.

* * *

"They're sending children at us?" Cameo asked in disgust as he revved up the engine of his ship. He'd witnessed the Thunderian ship release its passengers and take off again. That would be the primary target, he figured. After all, what could a man with a sword, two kids and a house cat do that a fighter craft couldn't.

It wasn't that he was inherently biassed against children, indeed they were raised to be warriors almost out of the womb on the Ice Moon. But Thunderians were different. They coddled their young in a way that Cameo almost envied. The memories of his own childhood flashed back to him; His mother had raised him the best she could, always certain that his belly was full no matter how difficult the times were for the family. And oh the food she made, able to turn the most vile of substances in to dishes fit for the royals. But it was his aunts and uncles who'd made him cringe. He received beatings if he did poorly in school, both in the classroom and in the schoolyard fights. That was no way for a child to live.

He shook his head to clear it of the ghosts from his past, he had a job to do. His craft rose swiftly into the air and met the Thunderian one head on.

* * *

He wasn't a pilot, Knave knew, so trying to handle the fighter craft in combat was out of the question. However, he did have heightened reflexes, enhanced speed and an icy touch. He picked his target out immediately, there was something about the small red and yellow creature that set his nerves on edge. As he ran towards it, the creature justified his dislike of it by screeching for help with a voice that made his skin crawl. He closed the distance between the two of them before any of the others could reach him.

* * *

Zanaya watched the goings on, sprinting across the rocky expanse that was serving as their battleground. No longer was Knave the focus of her defences, she'd gotten what she needed out of him and now could dispose of him at her leisure. Now it was a case of protecting Alluro. He seemed to have picked out the musclebound warrior with the red head of hair, orbiting him with his jet pack, his psyche club's orb hanging in the air above him. This one had strong will, she noted, and she had an idea of why.

The leader of the Thundercats was carrying a massive sword that seemed to supply him with the energy needed to withstand Alluro's might. If this were a powerful magical artifact perhaps, she figured, it could be used for the Lunataks' purposes. All his attention was on Alluro, trying to swat at the dangling crystal while keeping an eye on his friends. He would never see her creeping up behind him and seizing the sword from his hands.

* * *

Knave saw the flash light and heard the cry of Zanaya, and turned to see what had happened. Over by the Thundercat lord she lay sprawled on the ground, writhing in pain and clutching her hand. The Thunderian lion stood stupidly staring at her long enough for Alluro's full thrall to come into effect. The half-cheetah was so distracted himself by the injury to his lover, that Snarfer was able to sink his teeth into Knave's arm. He let out a shout of his own and tried to dislodge the creature from his person. The thing finally let go and bolted in the direction of Alluro, Zanaya and the Lion. Refusing to risk it taking advantage of Zanaya's helplessness, he followed.

* * *

"This guy's good," Cameo muttered, spinning his fighter around for another strafing run. Chilla, he noticed, had joined him in ganging up on the larger craft, but the Thundercat was too accustomed to these odds. The only benefit was that he was so outnumbered that he couldn't mount a concentrated attack of his own without leaving himself defenceless to one or the other of them. While he had the opportunity to do so, Cameo glanced out the window to see how his allies were doing.

The Lunattacker and Tug Mug were contending with the two children while Knave and Alluro were handling the small cat and lion respectively. He saw the flash of light and cursed quietly. He'd almost been looking directly at the sword when it happened, and now there were stars dancing in front of his eyes. He felt energy blasts hit the wing of his ship and knew he had to land immediately.

* * *

"Ho!" Lion-O shouted, pointing his sword in the direction of the crystal Alluro used to hypnotise, shattering it at once. The appearance of the strange woman had startled him and briefly allowed Alluro to get him under his control, but the arrival of Snarfer had changed that. The fact that one of his dear friends was in danger was enough to allow him to jump out of the sphere of influence of the orb and return fire. He had just finished that when he found the blue Lunatak upon him. It only took him a second to realize that somehow this man was part Thunderian Cheetah. "Ho, friend! We are kin, why are you attacking us?" Lion-O tried, fending off the crazed punches of the hybrid.

"We are not kin," he grunted in response, his fist colliding with the claw shield.

"We are both Thunderians. We should be allies, fighting against the Lunataks," Lion-O said in vain, suspecting deep down that there would be no peace. He knew, though, that he had to try anyway.

"Shut up," the hybrid responded drawing his icepick from its holder. For the second time that day, Snarfer clamped his teeth around Knave's hand, causing the weapon to bounce harmlessly to the ground.

Lion-O used this opportunity to shout "Ho!" at him again, blasting him in the chest with the Eye of Thundera and propelling him backwards onto the strange woman. Perhaps he could be made to see the truth under different circumstances. Cheetara perhaps, she might be able to reach his heart.

With his foe dispatched, Lion-O scanned the battlefield to see who else needed help. Lynx-O seemed to handling Chilla just fine, now that the fighter craft was out of the way. Alluro had retreated back to base, probably to get a new crystal, but the Thunderkittens were a different story. The Lunattacker and Tug Mug were chasing Wily Kit, keeping her from helping her brother, who was pinned beneath Amok's meaty fists. "Snarfer, you help Kit. I'm going to rescue Kat."

* * *

Back at Cat's Lair, Bengali had made a discovery. While watching the progress of the various Thundercats, he had noticed on a side monitor that the large Lunar space ship was descending swiftly, headed for the location of Lion-O's battle. He immediately picked up the radio and warned both Lynx-O and Panthro of this event, and then prepared to join them himself. They would need all the help they could get.

* * *

Slamming his fist against the side of the fighter craft, Cameo considered his options. He wasn't the greatest hand to hand fighter, and Knave's ship was still nearby, but it appeared that Luna was going to need him sooner than that. The big burly Thundercat with the sword was headed in her direction and looked none too pleased. Even as he sprinted towards them the Lion discharged a blast of energy from his sword, narrowly missing Amok's shoulder and causing both the Guardian and Luna to look his way.

"One more step and Amok will squash the boy, Thundercat," Cameo shouted, getting closer. This made the Lion stop in his tracks. He hadn't considered the possibility, and neither had Luna if her expression was any indication.

"That's right, Lion-O. Surrender now or Amok here will see how flat Wily Kat can get," Luna cackled.

"Thundercats never surrender," Cameo heard the one Luna had called Lion-O say.

"Are you stupid?" he asked. "Do you think we're bluffing?"

The Lion's eyes flicked over to Cameo, his sword still wavering. Finally the tip drooped and Cameo thought he'd finally seen reason. Suddenly it raised again and he shouted "Ho!" Energy raced along the blade and made a beeline for Luna. Without thinking about what he was doing, having started moving as soon as he realized what Lion-O was doing, Cameo jumped in the way of the blast, taking the hit in her stead.

* * *

Wily Kat's life flashed before his eyes. He remembered all the mischief he and Wily Kit had gotten in to. Their exodus from Thundera. The arrival on Third Earth. Meeting new allies. Fighting battles with countless foes. Amok's fist rocketed towards his head, but swerved at the last moment. When he dared open his eyes, Wily Kat saw that Lion-O had dropped the Sword of Omens, thus sparing his life.

* * *

High above the battlefield, Lynx-O could see what was happening clearly through his braille board. He could also see the space ship getting within range. Lion-O would hate him for abandoning Wily Kat but there was no alternative. He fired a direct hit on the Ice Runner and swooped down, covering Amok and Luna with dust as he opened one of the pods. "Quickly, Lion-O, more Lunataks are approaching. We must re-group!" he urged. Reluctantly, the lion obeyed, climbing in with Snarfer at his heels. They turned and collected Wily Kit as well before racing away.

* * *

Darius was very put out, as he walked around the home of Eluosi. Nitro had been there for an hour or so setting up the security arrangements, a job that did not fall under his jurisdiction. The house itself was fairly small, comfortably housing six people, with two stories plus a basement. There were caterers setting up tables and chairs on the back lawn, and he had seen Eluosi's youngest sister rehearsing a song of some sort. The pleasant atmosphere was hindered, in his opinion, by the heavily armed Icewalkers checking people's credentials and walking around.

At long last he found Nitro, inspecting a bowl of punch. "You're resistant to poisons, aren't you?" The sire of House Iespyk asked, holding a crystal glass out to the changeling.

"This really isn't necessary," Darius said, accepting the glass regardless. He was immune to most poisons, but wasn't keen to find out what the exceptions were. "This isn't the Ice Moon, and we're more than capable of handling the arrangements."

"Yes, I saw how good the Royal security force was when Tycho was first abducted. Very well done, I must say. The royal family looks weak as a result, and needs the Icewalkers around," Nitro said.

"There are going to be flaws in any security plan. We didn't know that Aristarchus would have allies that close to Tycho's quarters. And your plan makes it feel like a prison more than a party," Darius said.

Nitro was about to step closer to Darius, obviously irked at having his judgement challenged. He wasn't the sort to be questioned, certainly not on the Ice Moon where he might as well have been king. "The Ice Moon has had fewer assassinations per attempt than any other moon in the empire, do you know why? It's because we take precautions. We assume that there is danger everywhere, and we're usually right. There are people out there who want to kill the king, in case you've forgotten. They've tried twice in the last few days. They will try again. I'm not going to risk Aristarchus gaining the throne just to satisfy Tycho's pet."

"In the empire," Darius said, causing his body to grow larger, "there is only one person with greater authority than myself, and that is Tycho. The same Tycho that trusts my judgement in all matters. You would do well to remember that, Nitro." His body returned to its normal state as he noticed the looks the duo were receiving from the hired help. "Keep your security detail if it makes you happy, but our enemies will always find ways around them. No one, not even you, is perfect."

Nitro scowled as the changeling walked away. He was right, and that frustrated the Icewalker even more. Honour dictated obedience to Darius. For now.

* * *

The infirmary of Sky Tomb consisted of a padded table in a large closet. A few medical supplies were on hand, having been stolen from the outlying villages, and it wasn't uncommon for a doctor to go missing from one of these villages in a pinch. Luckily they had kept a Bulkin doctor and, even though he was exhausted from working in the engine room, dumping Thundrillium into the furnace, he had done a reasonable job attending to the various injuries the Lunataks had accrued against the Thundercats.

Shortly after the Thundercats had fled, the Honour of the Moon had landed outside, huge landing struts sinking into the rocky land outside. Paeder and her entourage were welcomed immediately to Luna's control room. Luna felt an almost immediate dislike for the woman already, though Tug Mug's leering suggested he didn't feel the same. It was the way Paeder hadn't so much as bowed when she'd entered that did it. Common courtesies couldn't have de-evolved so much in eighty years.

"I don't know what those traitors have told you," she began, referring to Cameo and Knave who were still in the infirmary, "but we were sent from the Ice Moon to rescue Chilla, whom we heard was here."

"Indeed?" Luna said.

"Yes. So, if you don't mind we will take Chilla and depart at once," Paeder said, eliciting a chuckle from Luna.

"If you think you are leaving me behind, you are sadly mistaken," she replied. Paeder had only brought four guards with her, and they would probably follow their captain. Red Eye, Tug Mug and Alluro could be counted on to stand by her. Chilla's loyalties she wasn't entirely sure about, though the woman answered that question quickly.

"I don't know who you are, but in my time our people respected the throne. I may not always like Luna, but what Cameo and Knave have said suggests that she's needed back on the Royal Moon. We are not leaving her behind," Chilla hissed, a stream of cold vapour escaping her lips.

"Fine. We take the queen and Chilla. Come along then," Paeder said, turning for the elevator. Her way was stopped as Tug Mug bounded in front of her, and she could hear Alluro shuffling behind her.

"You aren't leaving without us either," Tug Mug said.

"My psyche club may be archaic by your standards, but I assure you my powers are great enough to control your feeble mind," Alluro added.

Paeder snorted derisively, turning to meet the hypnotist with her gun drawn. "We have no room on our ship for Psions," she said. "If it wasn't for Chilla's insistence, we wouldn't even be taking the queen."

"I suggest you reconsider," Luna said, walking Amok closer. "You may outnumber us, but we are stronger than you. No one is being left behind. We will leave in the morning, assuming Cameo, Knave and that Psion are able to leave the infirmary."

Paeder pushed past Alluro and met Luna eye to eye. "I will grudgingly take you along, I may even accept these three, but those traitorous hybrids deserve to be left behind. They have been nothing but trouble since the day they came on board, and now I find that they snuck a Psion along with them. In fact, abandoning them here might be too kind a fate for the likes of them, I suggest death."

The speed of Amok was often underestimated, given his considerable size, but his reflexes were honed to perfection. No sooner had the words escaped Paeder's mouth than she was held high in the air, Amok's hands squeezing her body painfully. "I am not fond of repeating myself," Luna said, enunciating every word carefully. "Cameo risked his life to save me. I am not going to abandon anyone who has proven themselves worthy of my trust."

While Luna and Amok were occupied with Paeder the rest of her crew jumped into action, each imprisoning a guard in their own fashion. Amok turned Paeder to see her captured companions. "Fine!" she gasped, still being held very tightly. "I will return to my ship for the night, and we will all leave in the morning."

"I don't think so. You're just as likely to leave us behind. We may have been away from the Moons for eighty years, but Lunataks haven't changed much. No, you're going to inform your crew that you will be spending the night here, and helping us transfer what equipment we can salvage. Red Eye, Alluro and Tug Mug. You will take our guests to suitable accommodations, Chilla and I will check on our other guests."

* * *

In the infirmary Zanaya looked nervously at her two companions. Her secret was out now, and Cameo looked none too pleased with Knave about it. At least Knave didn't suspect what was going on in her heart, how she planned on ridding herself of her lover in a violent fashion. For being forced to sleep with him and the product of that union growing in her belly, she would hurt him more than he'd ever been hurt before. But she wouldn't be able to do that from here, certainly not with Cameo watching. There was nothing for it but to keep up the charade a bit longer and wait for the perfect opportunity.

Disgustingly, Knave refused to sit on the bed, and instead sat on the floor next to her. He'd asked about her hands, still stiff and sore from the momentary contact with the Sword of Omens. Cameo sat on the bed, with the doctor huddled by the door. Touching that sword had been unbelievable. It had felt like some great power had sifted through her brain and deemed her unworthy, she'd felt the rejection from the weapon so fiercely, and the jolt that had coursed through her hands and into her body had been an experience that she never wanted to feel again. What kind of power did that thing have? And how could she get it to the Psions for study?

All thoughts were interrupted as the door unlocked and hissed open. She looked nervously up at Luna and Chilla, deciding for the time being not to use her powers. The quarters were too tight, and with Amok blocking the door way she would have little chance of escape. Besides, where would she go? This was an alien planet and these people were her best chance of getting off the mudball.

"Follow us," Luna said simply, her voice implying that she disliked not being obeyed. The three Lunataks did so, leaving the Bulkin doctor locked in the room.

She and Chilla led them down the hall and into a larger room; this one was mostly empty except for a few chairs and a round table. It was easy to tell, Zanaya thought to herself, which spot belonged to which Lunatak. A high chair with a wide gap next to it was clearly where Luna and Amok sat. An empty space marked with food residue was where Tug Mug stood. A high backed chair for Alluro, a broad chair for Red Eye and a simple wooden chair for Chilla. As if to verify her suspicions, Luna and Chilla took their spots. Moments later the other three returned from dropping off their 'guests'. Here, Luna took the initiative. "An explanation is order. This Psion was not present earlier, and your captain knew nothing about her."

It looked bad. Lunataks of all breeds didn't take kindly to spies, and getting caught being one was dangerous. She considered again the possibility of camouflaging herself and running. Luna caught the expression on her face and tapped a remote at her side, locking the door. Besides, Red Eye might still be able to see her with his infravision.

"I suppose it's my turn, then. A lot has changed since you left, my queen. The moons are fractured, each vying for control of the empire," Zanaya explained hesitantly.

"I thought you said a lot had changed," Luna snorted, pleased with her joke.

"True, I suppose, but it worsened without a strong hand, your strong hand, to guide it. The Psion people needed an advantage over the Icewalkers, so they sent me to *ahem* deal with Nitro of House Iespyk, given how powerful he is among his people," Zanaya said. Chilla grinned, clearly pleased with her son's success. "Anyway, I was caught in the act and managed to escape. Just as I was about to leave, I heard some people talking about going to Third Earth to get something, taking the flagship, so I tried to find out what was going on. I found out too late to get further instructions from my home moon and... that brings us here."

"And your relationship with Knave?" Cameo asked tersely.

"He discovered me one day and we formed an alliance. The old captain of the ship hated half-breeds, as most Lunataks still do, and we found a common enemy. He was going to leave Knave, Cameo and the other half-breed behind and, even though they are Icewalkers, I felt that was wrong. And we sort of fell in love," Zanaya said, picking her words carefully.

"Love?" Luna snorted. "I'm not stupid. You got caught and used him. He found someone willing to sleep with him. I remember Lunatak attitudes towards hybrids, I dislike them myself, and I can imagine Knave would find little companionship." Zanaya started to protest, as did Knave but Luna silenced them with a look. She then turned her eyes to Cameo. "She called you a half-breed too, but you don't look it."

"That's true. I always favoured my mother's side. My father was a Solarin. I apologize if my heritage offends you, but maybe it will help prove that we hybrids can be useful," Cameo said diplomatically.

"You saved my life, and regardless of your parents, I will remember that. From now on, though, there will be no deception among any of you or I will let Paeder leave you on this miserable planet. Each of you will help me and my crew determine what can be salvaged from Sky Tomb and what can not. Except for you, Red Eye. Doubtless the Thundercats will come to rescue their cub, and I want all the warning I can."

* * *

In the royal living quarters, Tycho was in the process of putting the finishing touches on his outfit. Dark purple pants and long sleeved shirt held in place with a gold belt, a white with gold trim cape hung over his shoulders, and a crescent shaped amulet that weighed heavily around his neck. He looked at himself in the mirror and was quite pleased with what he saw. Darius hated this pair of boots, though, and would fuss about how hard they were to clean. Tycho liked them. They were black and shone brightly. They'd been a gift from his mother shortly before her death and he'd always treasured them for that reason.

There was no reason to delay the inevitable, so Tycho gathered up his ceremonial sword and strode purposefully to the waiting car.

* * *

Tug Mug and Cameo were in the kitchen, selecting things that could be added to the Honour of the Moon's food stores. Cameo wasn't quite certain what to think of the rotund Graviton quite yet, but thought he saw a lot of good in the man. Like most Gravitons, however, he seemed to devote much of the conversation to food and sex. Cameo found himself longing for the former as Tug Mug mentioned some of the things he would like to do to Paeder to 'loosen her up.' He doubted somehow that the captain would find any of the suggestions very relaxing, and tried to blot out the half-formed images.

At least the food supply in Sky Tomb wasn't too bad. Tug Mug had produced two barrels of strangely shaped fruit that tasted sweet like candy, but was highly nutritious from what he was told. He wondered if the seeds could be cultivated and planted on one of the moons. Access to food like this would be a hit. He was just clamping the lid back on the barrel when he sensed a presence. He poked his head out into the corridor but couldn't see anything.

* * *

Elsewhere, Knave was assisting Chilla in her personal quarters, packing her meagre belongings in a box. Like most Icewalkers she didn't believe in owning much in the way of personal possessions, but had managed to collect a few trophies that she enjoyed looking at, remembering how she'd gotten them. At the moment, however, she was listening to Knave tell stories about her family. So many of them had been lost, though she was pleased to hear that her husband Ren had died valiantly in combat with Mutants. It had been such a glorious battle, the prestige of her house had risen.

Stories about her son, however, pleased her less. She disliked Thunderians, made worse by their frequent battles on Third Earth, and hearing that he had bedded one nauseated her. The sight of them naked as they were cooked for dinner had been bad enough on the Ice Moon, let alone being naked with them in an intimate fashion. Still, her grandson seemed amiable enough, though most of that was the worship in his eyes. She supposed that, in the end, such creatures could be put to use. His relationship with the Psion was equally disgusting and, she decided, would have to come to an end. "That's the last of it," she said, standing next to the two boxes. She didn't need the furniture, and everything else could be replaced. "Let's take these to the hangar and start on the next room."

* * *

Zanaya had hoped that, when they were being assigned partners, she would get to work with Alluro, and had been greatly displeased when Luna decided to work with her herself. She'd been dragged to the engine room where the queen of the Lunataks was explaining the benefits of using Thundrillium to power the ship. It was rather boring stuff, and Zanaya's eyes wandered. Everything in this room was primitive, nothing was worth keeping. Despite Luna's claims, Thundrillium seemed to be in short supply outside a few planets and none of those were accessible from the Moons. It would be a waste to convert engines to their use. By co-incidence she happened to be looking at the doorway, longing to leave, when she thought she saw a glimmer of movement.

Her natural camouflage powers also granted her some very vague ability to sense others who were camouflaged. When she asked Luna if anyone could do such a trick, the queen pushed Amok to a run. "Hurry! We must get to the dungeons!" she cried.

* * *

She'd seen him, somehow. Tygra cursed softly to himself and began sprinting down the halls, his feet scarcely making a sound against the metallic floors. Lion-O had sent him ahead to determine where Wily Kat was being kept and whether he could be extracted without being noticed. He had seen Red Eye walking towards the command centre and had figured the rest of his journey would be uneventful, but then there was that strange woman. His plans would have to be altered, he thought glumly, as he threw himself into a side passage just as Amok and the Psion lumbered by. He couldn't risk being seen again. He would just have to hope that they could find Wily Kat in time.

* * *

Silently, at Alluro's direction, the Automaton packed the scientist's possessions, placing experiments, books, bottles and clothes into clearly labelled boxes. When all was complete, he would order the machine to transfer everything to the Honour of the Moon. He wondered what kind of quarters they had on board. For that matter, he wondered what awaited him on the Psion Moon. He'd had a home and family there, as well as an important job. He'd had a place of honour at the temple, conducting experiments to try and augment psionic powers. The psyche club had been a stroke of genius, he mused, and he'd had time to develop new theories.

The new Psion filled him with a certain amount of pride too, even though she had been caught. Alluro had no doubt the woman had used Knave to gain access to the Icewalker secrets and probably planned on killing him when his use expired. His people had been at the forefront of the Lunar empire, their telepaths manipulating the throne with ease. And then they'd been caught, a fact that the other moons never let them forget. He'd have had control of Luna too if it weren't for Amok.

His sandals slapping gently against the metallic floor of his lab area, he walked over to the device the Thundercats had ruined on one of their recent visits. His Skull Scope. It would have been perfect if Lynx-O's mind hadn't resisted so strongly. Would it be worth it to try and salvage it? Probably not, sadly, though the blueprints would be invaluable. That was the trick with half his inventions. Space onboard that ship would be limited, so anything that could be recreated would have to stay behind.

* * *

"He's been gone too long," Lion-O said, standing with the other Thundercats and Hachiman near the Forest of Mists. "If anything's happened to him..."

Cheetara came up behind her Lord and touched his arm. "Don't speak like that, especially in front of Wily Kit," she said softly, "the Sword of Omens would warn us if either Wily Kat or Tygra were in any real danger."

"You're right, Cheetara," he replied, his eyes flashing an apology. Wily Kit was beside herself with worry, more so than the rest of them, her brother was being held prisoner by those monsters, and they had no idea what the Lunataks might do to him. "Speaking of which, Sword of Omens give me sight beyond sight!" He raised the powerful sword to his face and gazed through the hilt.

The world before him changed, revealing Wily Kat sprawled on the floor of a metallic cell, the hide of a Brute Man lay on the floor across the room as he refused to use the skin of an ally for his own benefit. He appeared to be alright, though a few minor abrasions marked his body. These would heal with time. The Lunataks, it seemed, were busy with other things.

Again his vision distorted, revealing a location nearby. There was nothing there out of the ordinary and Lion-O wondered for a moment if the sword was playing tricks on him. His mind realized what it was doing when he saw footprints in the dry earth and knew that it was Tygra.

"It looks like we're going to get some answers sooner than we thought," Lion-O said, lowering the mystical blade and looking around at his companions, taking in their expressions. Wily Kit sat, being consoled, with Pumyra on the Thunderclaw. Hachiman and Panthro were talking near the Thundertank while Lynx-O and the Snarfs did some repair work on the Thunderstrike. "Tygra is almost here," he explained.

* * *

Traversing the landscape of Dark Side was a tricky task, but to one of Tygra's experience it wasn't too bad. He found the others just as the sun was beginning to set, and took a drink of water when Cheetara handed him the flask. He gave his report, though there was little to give. The Lunataks seemed to be stationary for the moment and he'd been unable to get near Wily Kat. He couldn't even give a report on the abilities of the new comers, though it was safe to assume that they were similar enough to their brethren. Their numbers were also inflated greatly by the arrival of the spaceship.

The prospects looked grim indeed, but Thundercats made it a point never to give up. The next hour was spent discussing how they might rescue the cub. Each member of the team gave their opinions and a plan was made.

* * *

The boy looked balefully at the queen of the Lunataks as she inspected the door to his cell. Pleased that it hadn't been tampered with she stared hard at Zanaya. "Are you sure you saw something?" she asked.

"Absolutely," Zanaya said. "It was a distortion of some kind, like someone that's invisible was here."

"Hmm... Stay here with the prisoner. If you see this distortion again sound the alarm."

* * *

Red Eye and Tug Mug switched places after a few hours so that Red Eye could take his turn at dinner, while the rest of the crew searched the premises for any sign of Thundercats. The Lunataks had decided early on that everyone would split the various duties around Sky Tomb, although it wasn't uncommon for one to trade for a job that they were better at. No one ever traded to let Red Eye cook more often; he was terrible at it, but loved cooking and thought every dish was delicious.

Tonight, in honour of their last day, he was preparing one of his favourite dishes: Roast Berbil Stew. The recipe was a closely guarded secret, but only the choicest pieces of Berbils were used to prepare it. Other ingredients that had been guessed at were cheese, honey stolen from the gigantic bees of Dark Side, and something that left a very bitter taste in the mouth that Chilla often speculated reminded her of rust. Strangely, ever since he'd first introduced the dish, fewer Berbils were captured, or were kept hidden from him.

Before he left, Cameo had made the mistake of saying that he looked forward to dinner and ended up with a larger portion of the revolting stew. Alluro was the first to volunteer to take Wily Kat and Zanaya their food, mostly so he could get to his secret stash, a trick that all the Lunataks employed.

* * *

Tycho straightened his shoulders as he walked up to the front door of the Brythago family home, greeting the guard there politely. Once his identity was verified, he was shown inside and immediately met the face of Eluosi's mother. She was a heavy set woman who, if he recalled from his brief research, had been in the opera. Her voice was high but delicate as she called out his name, embracing him warmly. "How good of you to come," she said, finally freeing him from her grip. "It is such an honour to have one of your influence among us. Please come in, have some punch. Mister Iespyk assures me it's safe." Her voice indicated a certain displeasure at Nitro's security efforts, though Tycho approved of them.

Walking briskly from the matron of the home, Tycho helped himself to some of the aforementioned punch and looked around to see where Eluosi was. He found her resting in a red velvet chair, near the window overlooking the backyard, gazing off into space. Her injured arm was tucked daintily in a sling and covered with a copper coloured coat. Gradually making his way over to her, he finally managed to catch her eye. "How are you?" he asked, genuinely concerned.

She smiled cordially at him, "I'm well, all things considered. I'll be happier once I have full use of my arm again."

He chose to ignore the old battle. "This is a lovely home you have here," he said instead, "I like the decor especially. You really didn't need to go to all this fuss for me."

"I know I didn't, but I agree with my mother. You've gone above and beyond the call of duty for me, and we want you to know how much we appreciate it. Just wait until you hear my sister sing, she takes after my mother. I'd wager she'll be in the opera before you know it," Eluosi said enthusiastically.

"I don't doubt it. The stage runs in your blood. It won't be long now, I wager, until we see you back on the stage," he said, drinking from the glass. It was pretty good punch.

"Not until this heals," she sighed deeply. "There aren't many parts that call for a one-armed woman."

* * *

Glancing up at the sound of footsteps approaching, Zanaya stood and arched her back, easing out all the kinks. She drew her pistol and watched closely, smiling warmly when she saw who it was. The master hypnotist carried two bowls in his hand and slipped one of them inside the cell. He then gestured Zanaya to follow him. Alluro led her down the hall, still in sight of Wily Kat's cell but far enough that he wouldn't hear anything.

"What are things like back on the Moon?" he asked.

"Same as they've been since you left. We've found it difficult the last few decades to gain much of a foothold within the empire. Leadership changes so constantly that work has to start over too often. We have a candidate that we're trying to put in place, but nothing concrete. How much control do you have over Luna?" Zanaya asked.

Alluro snorted. "So long as Luna has Amok, she has control over us," he said. "But, in a strange way, I think she listens to my advice. I haven't even had to use hypnotism to do it, just my natural charm. But then, I've yet to meet anyone who can resist my charm." His eyes grazed over her body, drinking it in. He'd been away from the moon for so long with the only female companions being Luna and Chilla, that he found himself craving her company, but he squelched the idea. There were plenty of female Psions back home to just hop in the sack with the first one he saw, and this one would probably succumb too readily.

"Yes, your charm and persuasion are legendary back on the moon, it's a wonder you weren't made a high priest," Zanaya said, not catching his leering as Wily Kat had stirred and was poking hesitantly at the food.

"Indeed they tried. But I was happier with my inventions, and I found had little time for those I considered my lessers," Alluro said. "I was so close to a breakthrough when I was called on for this fool's errand. She lost the belt, you know. Knocked off a cliff and shattered, she says. Perhaps some fragment of it might be found, but the magic is doubtless gone."

"Luna is an idiot then," Zanaya muttered.

"Oh, no doubt about it. But as long as she's around, she'll have to do. Anyhow, I should go before the others start wondering where I've gone. Keep an eye on the kitty, won't you?" he said, striding away.

"I'll make you proud," she said as she watched him go. She continued to stare off in the direction he'd gone and wondered to herself what he had meant with those words. 'As long as she's around' he'd said. So if Luna wasn't around... Was he asking her to kill Luna? Kill the other Lunataks? The thought was appealing, even something her high priests would approve of. Each one of them posed a threat to the greater plans of the Psion moon. And with each stroke of her knife she could neutralize that threat.

* * *

The 'guest room' was disgusting. A spot near the furnace, this room was clearly a place where they stored excess ore when times were good. Plenty of rocks were still scattered about, along with an empty ore cart. The pickaxe that had been present had been taken away when Paeder and her escort were locked up. Luna couldn't treat them like this. Paeder was the captain of the flagship of the Ice Moon, and deserved to be treated with respect. Even worse was Chilla, a hero of legendary proportions, being a part of this conspiracy. And then there was Tug Mug. Paeder's mouth filled with bile at the thought of the little man who had suggested alternative accommodations in his bedroom if she wanted them. She settled with her back against the ore cart and plotted his violent demise.

* * *

The home of the Brythago family was bustling with activity. Most of the people were in the backyard, though many mingled and chatted in the house proper, eating hors d'oeuvres and drinking punch. There were numerous celebrities present, and an almost equal number of Icewalker guards. From a seedy restaurant down the street, Mystan sat with one of his telepath allies, sipping at a glass of water. The woman, named Lura, had her eyes closed and was being his scout, slipping her mind into that of the partygoers to inspect the security.

"They're all moving outside," she murmured, "the hostess just announced that Eluosi's sister is going to sing."

Perfect, he thought, finding the king would be that much easier once the singing started. Tycho would have a place of honour at the front of the pack. Closing his own eyes, Mystan allowed his senses to follow the thread of Lura's psychic link and drifted towards the crowd, and was pleased when he saw that he was right. He swept his view away and examined closely the locations of the guards. "There," he said to Lura, "that's the guard we'll use, the one by the flower bush. I'll hold him still, you finish the deed."

Although he couldn't see Lura herself, she gave an affirmative and quietly took over the mind of the selected target. Seeing that she was ready, he sent his own consciousness over the body of Tycho, creating a telekinetic bubble to prevent him from moving. It was difficult for some reason, the force sliding off him like hands on a bar of soap. No matter, whatever resistence he had wouldn't do him much good. "Now!" he intoned.

* * *

Nitro listened to the singing with only a passing interest. It wasn't spectacular but was adequate. He'd never been much into the opera scene anyway, viewing it as a group of fat women singing as loud as they could. Minimal plot, foreign dialect, all very boring. He jerked to attention when he heard one of his guardsmen shout "Death to the king!" and fire successive energy bursts from his rifle at Tycho's position. The king took the blows square to the chest and slumped back.

Proudly, the rest of his men moved into action, returning fire immediately and rushing to the aid of the king. Nitro felt a wave of shame overtake him; He had failed in his duty. There was no way Tycho could have survived such an assault. The Icewalker responsible and his family would suffer for this act.

Rushing over to inspect the fallen royalty, he was surprised to hear Tycho laughing and standing, brushing the scorch marks clean off his clothes. "Not to worry, folks. I'm fine," he said, morphing his body into Darius. "Nitro, canvas the area to find where those Psions are hiding. There's at least a telekinetic in the bunch and probably a telepath too." Nitro agreed and was about to send his men out when the entire area went pitch black.

* * *

Mystan cursed the changeling, not for the first time, and told Lura to engage plan B. There were Darkling forces ready nearby; they cast the area in darkness and waded in, guns drawn. They began seeking out the heat signatures of all Icewalkers, firing and killing any they came across. The Icewalkers weren't stupid, however, and began blindly spraying ice in the direction the shots were coming from.

* * *

It was chaos, and Darius knew he had to act quickly. Transforming his body into a Darkling was easy, doing so and having the abilities of the Darkling was hard. Slowly he forced his eyes to become infrared and scanned for signs of intruders. There they were, and since he would register as kin to them, they wouldn't be likely to shoot back. Moving through the crowd Darius began picking off the traitorous Darklings, killing many before they realized the deception. At least one enemy soldier was mistaken for the changeling and killed accidentally, and Darius managed to take care of the rest of them. Once they were all accounted for, the darkness began to dissipate. Quickly, before Nitro's Icewalkers mistook him for an intruder, Darius reverted to his natural form.

"How? Where's the king?" Nitro asked, looking around at the carnage astonished.

"I told you I could take care of things. Tycho and I switched places in the bathroom. We knew that this was the likely time for an attack and prepared a counter measure. Go tend to your people, I'll let Tycho know it's safe," Darius said, the trace of a smug expression on his countenance.

Nitro nodded curtly and sent his remaining troops to scour the immediate area, determined to find the Psions nearby. The royal guard he employed to tend to the wounded until professional help arrived, and to gather up the dead.

* * *

"I'm getting word from the oracle," Lura said, gasping as the urgent message was sent. She and Mystan were hurrying to their car, parked behind the restaurant. She looked confused by the words and settled into the passenger seat. "We're being recalled," she said, "the oracle says it's too late."

"We'll gather the other Psions then. Aristarchus can fend for himself," Mystan said.

* * *

The door to Red Eye's room slid open easily. The Darkling had been so exhausted from working that he'd forgotten to lock it, a boon to his visitor. Quietly, the intruder crept forward, trying not to make a sound in the darkened room. Red Eye was a tidy individual, everything went precisely where it belonged, even his clothes were draped in an orderly fashion over the back of his chair. The room itself was simple. A few potted plants hung from the ceiling and a mirror adorned the wall next to the door. There was a trunk full of clothes, a desk, and the bed in which the target lay sprawled on his back, one hand carelessly touching the floor.

Slowly the assassin pulled back the sheets and drew a long sharp knife. Red Eye's throat was bare, head cocked slightly to the side. His death would come swiftly and painlessly. Just as the knife was raised for the killing stroke, strong hands clamped firmly around the assassin's mouth and wrist, dragging them back out into the hall. As soon as the door shut again, Cameo turned them around. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Knave?" he asked, his voice low.

The fellow hybrid scowled back, freeing his arm from Cameo's grip. "I'm carrying out my orders. Red Eye and Alluro are not to arrive on the Ice Moon. My father's orders," he said.

"Your fath... Are you his dog now? Did he sleep with one of the Jackalmen? Come on, you hate your father, it's common knowledge, and yet you do whatever daddy tells you? I thought you were better than that. I thought you could think for yourself," Cameo said, trying hard to keep his voice low so as not to wake anyone up. He'd been having trouble sleeping and had heard Knave get out of bed. Curious, he'd followed at a discreet distance.

"Out of my way, Cameo. I don't like hurting other Icewalkers, but I will if I have to. I have a duty to perform and you..." Knave began.

"You will do nothing of the sort. It's because of such dated attitudes that I agreed to come on this mission. We are all Lunataks. In our veins runs the same blood. Believe it or not, the other moons are not your enemies."

"Yeah, well, his people killed my brother."

"Because your brother killed a bunch of his people. And now you're going to kill him. And his people will want to kill more Icewalkers if you do, until finally you're all dead. It's not going to happen. You've been nothing but arrogant and ignorant since we met. I put it aside as being part of your upbringing and because we had something in common, but now I see I'm going to have to beat both out of you," Cameo said.

Knave took a step back, startled at the words that were coming out of his mouth, but then started to smile. The man had guts, but Knave had experience. He'd fought with many people who thought they were better than him, and most of them hadn't been able to back up their words with action. "And how are you going to do that?" he asked, still brandishing his icepick.

"You never did ask what my abilities were," Cameo said, grabbing Knave's arm and painfully squeezing it, causing the knife to clatter to the ground. "Funny thing about my background, my Solarian DNA seems to allow me to copy the strengths and abilities of people I touch. I try not to let it be too wide known, most people might not like that. During dinner I touched Amok. Isn't that funny? I've got the raw power and speed he does, only slightly diminished." Knave kicked Cameo's legs but found the other was quicker. He swung Knave by the arm, propelling him into the wall. Then he used the same arm to draw Knave close enough for a hard punch in the face.

Knave reeled under the assault, and was pleased when Cameo released at last. The half-Solarian stared hard at him, body tensed and waiting to see if there was a counter-attack. "Did I make myself clear?" Cameo asked.

Any reply Knave was about to make was halted when Chilla let loose a scream from her room up the hall. Instantly both hybrids were sprinting as fast as they could to see what the problem was.

* * *

It was fortunate that Chilla was a light sleeper. More fortunate still was her distrust of her colleagues. A motion sensor just inside the door alerted the ice woman that there was an intruder, moments before a knife whistled past where her head had been, skewering the pillow. She couldn't see her attacker, despite the moonlight falling through her bedroom window, but could feel her assailant's hands grappling for her neck. It was a poor choice in strategy, as this particular Icewalker could use both ice and fire. She grabbed the phantom wrists and shot fire from her fingertips, igniting the black outfit Zanaya wore.

At that point Knave and Cameo burst into the room. Cameo cast a harsh look at his partner "You two deserve each other," he hissed, tackling the Psion woman to the floor. Knave ignored the comment and rushed to prevent Cameo from hurting her too badly. She may have just attacked his grandmother, but she was still the woman he cared about and there had to be a logical explanation.

The commotion and screaming must have been loud enough, as soon the rest of the Lunataks were gathered in the tight confines of Chilla's bedroom. "What's going on?" Luna demanded.

"That one," Chilla said, pointing her finger in Zanaya's direction, "tried to kill me in my sleep. Here's her knife to prove it." Luna, or rather Amok, walked over and took the blade from the Icewalker.

"That's right," Zanaya said, seeing no point in denying it. She knew that in a case of Chilla's word against her own, that Luna would go with Chilla's. "I did it for Alluro and the glory of the Psions."

"Me? Leave me out of this. I had nothing to do with this," Alluro stuttered, genuinely shocked at the accusation.

"Knave's not innocent either," Cameo said, angry enough at the hybrid to see he got punished further for his actions. "I caught him trying to do the same to Red Eye."

"Really? Confine them both to the dungeon. I will deal with them in the morning. I warn you two, while warring may be the Lunatak way, disturbing my beauty sleep is a grave offense," Luna said.


	5. Chapter 5

Heritage of the Lunatak Empire by Jonathan J. Prideaux  
Chapter 5

The tension surrounding Lura and Mystan was high as they raced away in their car, heading back to the pastry factory. As she stared blankly out the window, watching the trees and houses whistle by, Lura found that she was still troubled by the urgent message from the oracle, wondering what could have changed in the last few hours that would have caused them to abandon their mission. And yet, there was a part of her that was pleased. Aristarchus was an idiot whose ideals and plans happened to coincide with those of the Psion high priests. Tycho didn't fit either category which made him unappealing to those in power.

Lura disagreed with such sentiment. Tycho desired peace and unity among the moons, which couldn't necessarily be a bad thing, in her opinion. Surely peace among the moons would lead to greater glory for the empire as a whole. Tycho also was known to reward his friends and be harsh on his enemies, all this senseless fighting only made them the latter. It just made sense to her that the Psions could gain the most by siding with Tycho, and she wasn't the only one to think that way.

Being highly skilled at reading the thoughts of others, Lura knew that Mystan thought poorly of Aristarchus' judgement. He thought Aristarchus was a buffoon and was pleased himself to finally be returning to the moon and leaving the would-be king to his fate.

Mystan cleared his throat, catching Lura's attention and she looked over in time to see his eyes narrowed on her. His look reminded her that, while he was most adept at telekinesis, he possessed some talents with the other psionic disciplines, and that he knew she was poking where she shouldn't. Satisfied that they were on the same page he focussed his attention back on the road.

* * *

The Thundercats moved swiftly by land and air. Their target; Sky Tomb and the Honour of the Moon. They would rescue Wily Kat. They would defeat the Lunataks as they had done on many occasions. The numbers would only be overwhelming if they allowed them to be, they believed in themselves and their cause and failure was not an option.

* * *

The cells of Sky Tomb were not designed for comfort. Groups of Brute Men, Wollos, and Bulkins were often packed like sardines into the rooms. In that respect, Knave and Zanaya were fortunate. There weren't many prisoners at present, as the Thundercats had taken part in a rescue operation recently. Instead, they were shackled by the wrists to the wall and otherwise left alone. In the cell across the way, Wily Kat lay still on the floor, his bowl of stew ignored. Much further along were Paeder and her companions.

Zanaya's eyes opened and she stifled a groan at her predicament, trying to remember the old penalties for crimes. There had been so many rulers in the last few years it was often hard to keep track, but attempted murder was still greatly frowned on. Tycho was a little easier than most, resorting to a quick painless death. Others had been less inclined to be merciful, she remembered.

She took in the surroundings, finally catching sight of her companion. Knave. He was the reason she was in this mess. If he'd given her what she wanted in the first place and then had the good sense to die... "Idiot," she muttered, imagining for a moment what it would be like to make him feel as violated as she had when he'd raped her.

"What?" he asked, his head turning towards her. He looked worn down. He hadn't had much sleep lately, and was still sore both mentally and physically from Cameo's abuse.

"I called you an idiot," she said crisply and evenly.

"Why would you say that? You were trying to kill Chilla," Knave said, his face showing the hurt he felt inside. Confused as to why the woman he loved was insulting him. "She's my kin, my blood, why would you do that?"

She laughed haughtily. "You heard what I said earlier. For the glory of the Psions, she should be dead. With her, your precious Icewalkers gain an advantage, without her we gain strength. Unfortunately I seem to have a poor track record killing members of House Iespyk. Your grandmother, your father, you... Heck, I even prevented you from dying."

"What? You never did that," he said, racking his brain and more confused than ever.

"Didn't I?" Zanaya asked. "What about your fight with Captain Havallance? I was with you every step of the way, helping you defeat him. I tripped him, grabbed him, punched him, did whatever I could to help you win and you almost screwed that up. If I hadn't needed that information out of you I'd have let him have his fun."

"But the law of the Icewalkers forbids..."

"It does, doesn't it? I believe by your own laws that you should be put to do death for cheating in the combat. If I thought I'd get away with it, I'd consider telling your people that too."

Knave, she could tell, was hurt and confused, and that somehow made her feel better about herself. After all she had put up with from him, from the physical attacks when they'd first met to the psychological attacks when she'd been made to submit to him, it was satisfying to know that she could use it to her benefit. "Why are you talking like this? I thought you loved me," he stammered.

Zanaya laughed again, this time loud enough to catch the attention of anyone within earshot. She didn't care. "Love you? I never loved you. I used you like the pathetic little kitty you are. You're no different than any man; a few sweet words and a pair of open legs from an attractive woman and you go all soft. I got what I wanted out of you. I found out about Alluro and had the chance to kill the others. My only regret is that when Luna decides to execute us, I won't get to kill you myself."

As she spoke, Knave began to shake, visibly becoming angrier as every word struck him as though it were a physical blow. She paused and spat at him, the glob of saliva landing on his shoulder. "You are the most loathsome individual I've ever laid eyes on. You and your father are so much alike; blood thirsty monsters with no regard for anyone but yourselves and your precious honour. Let me tell something, you have no honour, not the way you treat me, nor the way you treat any of your friends. You're not a proud warrior, you're a coward."

Some part of her mind cautioned her to stop baiting him, but the hatred she'd had building up came flooding out, and the cork could not be put back in place. Were she paying attention to him, Zanaya would have noticed that the rattling of Knave's chains had gone still. Eerily still, in fact. She only realized what was happening when she heard the sound of flesh tearing from bone and his ear splitting bellow. She turned and realized that he was forcibly removing the shackles that had hung loosely around his wrists. The hands were covered in blood as he tore them free and advanced menacingly towards her, evil intent in his stance. She could see, in that moment, that he was no longer a Lunatak but a wild animal that she had managed to provoke. His thoughts were clear; he wanted her dead. There was only one chance. "I'm pregnant!" she cried.

The beast stopped short, feral rage halted for a moment as the words slowly sank in. The bloodlust in his eyes wavered and he eyed her suspiciously.

"It's true. The gods visited me and told me the truth, that I would bear a child for you. I know it sounds hard to believe so early but..." she spoke quickly, fearing that every word might be her last.

It seemed to work though. While the hate and anger was still there, naked in his eyes, another gleam was there too. A ripple of fear shook her as he lifted her shirt and placed one bloodied hand on the flat of her stomach, the same stomach that would soon be swelling with his child. "This is mine," he murmured so softly she almost didn't hear it. Then he met her gaze and she understood that she'd only stayed her execution if he had his way. The next time he spoke it was louder. "Until this is born you are under my protection. Once my son or daughter is in my arms, your life is forfeit."

* * *

The scene in the cellar of the Brythago home was more touching, as Darius and Tycho embraced, happy to see each other still alive. The former detailed, in brief, what had happened upstairs. Tycho had noticed, naturally, that the building was in darkness, and had heard the scuffling above. He'd sequestered himself in this room with a gun aimed on the door. If a Darkling had entered he or she would have been shot.

The time for hiding, however, was over, and Tycho's presence needed to be felt by those above. As monarch he knew he needed to be seen as strong and caring, tending to the wounded and meting out justice as needed. There was very little of the latter to do. The few Darklings to survive the attack weren't talking and would be dealt with later. Tycho put greater priority on dealing with those who had fought for him or been caught in the middle. He made the rounds, offering sympathy and condolences, promising that the injured would receive the best care available.

Nitro met him as he comforted an Icewalker who had taken a severe shot to the chest. "You honour us, your majesty," Nitro said. "You've shown me your wisdom and kindness. While I may not approve of your deception, I also must acknowledge that it was effective against treacherous enemies like the Psions and Darklings."

"My thanks to you and your people, Nitro of House Iespyk. Those who died today, died in defence of the crown and therefore have died with full honour and glory. I know the role I must play, though it brings danger to those around me. No one should have to die on my behalf, but with people like yourself and Darius around to protect me from myself, I feel secure that I am doing the right thing for the Lunar people," Tycho said.

"A politician after all," Nitro chuckled, clasping Tycho's shoulder firmly. "I have my people scouring the area, but whoever was co-ordinating this attack has already crawled back into whatever hole they came from, I regret to say. Don't worry though, I'd stake my honour on finding Aristarchus, dead or alive."

* * *

Aristarchus, at that moment, was miles away, staring absently at a stray globule of purple pie filling that had somehow affixed itself to the corner of the desk he was using. The radio reports from the local media were casting the attack on the Brythago home in a poor light. They indicated that they were the actions of a desperate man who was acting rashly. Rashly? Him? Never. His plans were well thought out, layer upon layer of detail. If his flunkies couldn't carry them out properly, that couldn't be his fault.

He was somewhat surprised that he hadn't heard yet from Mystan. No Psions were reported dead or captured, and he had that telepathic girl with him. It was very unlike Mystan not to check in. He was the sort who knew his own value made it unlikely that Aristarchus would punish him for bearing bad news. Men like that were dangerous, and usually cocky. Mystan was not.

A flicker of activity caught his attention. A trio of Psions walking past the office window, heading for the exit. He lurched to his feet and walked briskly to catch up to them. "Where do you think you're going?" he demanded.

"We are cutting our losses. The Psions are choosing to no longer support Aristarchus in his bid to be king," one replied.

"Be grateful we do not hand you over to your enemies for the benefit of our empire," another said.

Aristarchus stood by the door in bewilderment, watching the Psions leave. This couldn't be happening. To be abandoned, like an old pair of shoes at the side of the road. It was almost unfathomable that such a thing could happen to a person of his stature. There had to be a logical explanation.

"There is," Mystan's voice at last carried into his head. He was using Lura's telepathic abilities to carry his thoughts. "We have supported you because we felt that you were the best candidate to assist us in our divine role as leaders of the Lunataks. We chose you because your ideas and interests ran the same direction as ours. Yet, despite our aid, you have failed time and again. We are a patient people, but we do not forgive failure."

The telepathic connection cut off as abruptly as it had come, preventing Aristarchus from pleading his case. As he looked around the factory, he realized how alone he was. Only five others, all royal Lunataks, remained. It was time for him to disappear, he thought, and wait for the proper time to rise again. He turned to his cohorts. "Gentlemen, you have served me well. It's time to leave. I want you to remove all evidence that I've been here. Understood?" They saluted and went to work.

While they busied themselves, he walked to his car, hidden in the warehouse, and began to drive away. When he was well clear of the garage door he detonated explosives throughout the building, bringing it down on those inside. "And I will remove the witnesses."

* * *

In the command hub of Sky Tomb, perched on a platform high above the floor, was Tug Mug's personal computer. It was here that he kept his secret collection of video games and screen shots from his hidden spy cameras. Luna had been furious the one time she'd spotted one, forcing him to be a little more clever with them. He was especially proud of the one he'd managed to set up in the Warrior Maiden village the one day. He sighed sadly. That was one thing he was going to miss when he left Third Earth. They had laws against that sort of thing back on the moons.

He was snickering at an amusing image of Alluro, after an encounter with the giant bees that inhabited the forest nearby, when the internal alarms began blaring. Tug Mug switched his station to the outer cameras that dotted the Dark Side landscape. "Thundercats!" he cursed, rapidly tapping at the controls to summon the others. If the felines wanted a fight, they would get one.

* * *

The Honour of the Moon began to power up and rose slowly into the air. Although they were without their captain, the Icewalkers aboard saw an enemy approaching and knew their duty.

* * *

Each Thundercat understood his or her task. The massive starship was the biggest threat, so Lion-O would be responsible for that. Wily Kit and Cheetara were given the most difficult task of all; sneak in to Sky Tomb and rescue Wily Kat without being caught. The Lord of the Thundercats urged Pumyra to fly the Thunderclaw closer to the ship, confident that the Sword of Omens would protect them from incoming laser blasts. Even still, he winced as the powerful bolts struck the energy shield he was generating. The energy rattled his arm, sending vibrations through his body. As they soared closer, he shifted to more aggressive tactics, firing blasts of energy of his own at the vessel.

* * *

Lunattacker and Thundertank clashed in the middle of the battlefield, Red Eye and Panthro each trying to out muscle the other's vehicle, pushing violently and spraying fire. Overall the Thundertank was probably the stronger, but it had expended a fair amount of fuel getting to Dark Side and therefore had less power to draw on. Panthro had dispatched his passengers earlier, and they were presently doing battle with the other Lunataks, which meant that he had to win this one on his own. "Come on baby, give me all you've got," he growled, revving the engine harder. She was complaining about the abuse but she was a fine machine. She wouldn't let him down.

* * *

Bengali found himself up against a rocky outcropping with Snarf and Snarfer, a marginal piece of shelter from Chilla's strafing runs in the Ice Runner. Snarf was already injured, his tail having narrowly been caught by Chilla's icy breath. Bengali had grabbed him at the last minute and pulled him to safety with his nephew, but the rocks wouldn't prove to be safe for long. The Ice Runner was swift and manoeuvrable, and had managed to loop around for a second run at the trio. Bengali raised the Hammer of Thundera and fired a couple of quick shots off before having to sprint for more cover. Chilla evaded the hasty attack and cackled triumphantly as she managed to freeze the rest of Snarf.

* * *

In the bowels of Sky Tomb, Wily Kat drew his knees up to his chest. He wasn't quite sure what was going on outside, but there felt like a lot of activity. The alarms had gone off and he'd felt the engines of the demonic structure powering up. It had to be the Thundercats, trying to rescue him. That was the kind of thing they did for one another.

He looked across the hall at where Knave and Zanaya were. The two had been making a terrible amount of noise earlier, and Wily Kat had been certain that the hybrid was going to kill the Psion. He'd heard her say something about being pregnant and that had halted the assault. Now Knave sat on the floor, tending to his injuries. When he realized he was being watched, Knave gave him a hungry look and slowly licked his lips. Such an act was enough to make Wily Kat inch further away from the bars of his cell.

"I should have you for dinner some time, you look like you've got plenty of meat on you," he sneered, laughing when Wily Kat paled.

"You don't scare me. You're a prisoner of the Lunataks too!" the cub stuttered, trying to sound braver than he was.

"Keep telling yourself that, kid," Knave replied, turning back to his haphazard bandaging.

* * *

Further down the hall, Paeder and her companions were listening to the goings on with interest. The captain decided she'd had enough of her captivity and that the time had come to leave the cramped room. If the Lunataks were in the midst of a battle, as she surmised, then they might be too distracted to notice the Icewalkers leaving. "The two of you are fire throwers. Direct your blasts at the lock," she said as the duo moved into position.

* * *

Cameo produced a pistol he'd kept tucked in his jacket pocket, it was an older model and had belonged to his father at one point, or so his mother had said. He wasn't a great shot with it, he was better behind the controls of a ship, but he was capable of putting up a good fight. He was trying to keep close to Luna, to protect her for the empire, but was having trouble fending off Tygra. He was starting to debate whether knocking the feline out of the Hovercat had been a good thing or not. At least when he was in the flying craft Cameo could keep tabs on where he was, outside of it he had turned invisible.

The hybrid cursed as he saw Amok trying to avoid being slashed by the human that the others had identified as Hachiman, and took a step in that direction when he felt a fireball slam into his back. Cameo turned and glowered at Tygra, standing smugly with his whip in one hand. He curled it about himself again and vanished. Cameo lunged at the spot where he'd been but found nothing but barren rock. "Fight with honour," he spat.

"Lunataks have no honour," Tygra replied evenly from somewhere off to Cameo's left. He looked in that direction but found no evidence of his attacker. What he did see, and the sight brought a smile to his face, was Red Eye driving the Lunattacker towards him. Darklings were known for their abilities to see the Tigers of Thundera. Perhaps a change of opponent would be in order. The Thundertank barrelling behind Red Eye would be a suitable choice if he could get Panthro out of it.

* * *

He felt the rush of cold air move past him and shivered involuntarily. That had been a close call, and Bengali knew it. He was feeling rather helpless, since if he were out in the open he'd be an easy target, but concealed he couldn't hit her. The terrain around where he was fighting was slick with ice too, making manoeuvring even more dangerous.

The Ice Runner swept around the boulder and Chilla breathed again, pleased when she saw his leg trapped mid-stride. Frantically he began smashing the imposing ice with his hammer, while praying to Jaga that he had enough time before she made another run. The ice finally came loose, but not in time. Bengali saw Chilla's wicked grin as she breathed on him.

* * *

Blessed with not being an active combatant, Luna was able to take a quick look around at the battlefield. Hachiman had managed to score several small wounds on Amok's thick arms, but they didn't seem to be hampering his determination. Sure, the Thundercutter was making it difficult for Amok to get within striking range, but the samurai knew that all it would take was a single punch from her Guardian to fell him. Off to one side she could see Alluro and Tug Mug hampering each other's efforts as they tried to contain the Thunderstrike, the former from his jet pack and the latter using Sky Tomb's cannons. Chilla had taken care of Bengali and the Snarves, Tygra and Panthro were having mixed results with Red Eye and Cameo respectively, and the Lord of the Thundercats was battling the Honour of the Moon.

But where were Wily Kit and Cheetara? Everyone else seemed to have been brought in, and the cub especially would not have accepted being left behind. Sky Tomb! They must have gone in to Sky Tomb somehow when no one was looking. She looked back at her home fortress and saw that the elevator had been retracted, which ruled that out as a point of entry. She just hoped Tug Mug could deal with any intruders.

* * *

Zanaya still hung from her shackles, staring daggers at Knave. The hybrid had finished bandaging his hands and stared out the door. The words of the goddess Lunis rang in her ears. Surely a god couldn't be wrong, could they? Or had her own god withdrawn his protection? Lunis promised that she would bear a child, and that meant that Zanaya wouldn't be dying any time soon. One look at Knave reminded her that she might not live long after birth, unless she could kill him first.

A noise further down the hall caught her attention. It sounded like multiple voices, and the running of feet. "Paeder," she heard Knave say, staring in that direction. The footfalls grew louder and soon Zanaya could see them too. Paeder and her company of guards paused in front of the cells.

"If I had a gun, I'd put you down like the animal you are," she said as Knave snapped his jaws at her. "Still, it pleases me to know that you won't be joining us on the flight home." That said they jogged away. Zanaya listened to the footfalls growing fainter and fainter, accompanied by the slamming of a door. The air was still, Wily Kat's teeth chattered in the cold of his cell and Knave's heavy breathing was the only other sound.

"Let me down," Zanaya said. "We have to get out of here. I'm not getting left behind."

Knave whirled angrily and started to grab her throat. "I don't take orders from you. If you weren't carrying my child..." She could see him struggling with his impulses, wanting to strangle her but needing her alive at the same time.

"Maybe, but you need me now. You should be able to open these shackles. If you do, I can open the cell door. The lock doesn't look too complicated," she said.

"I know you. If I let you go, you'll attack me. I can't take the chance I'd hurt my child." He released her and went back to the door of the cell, driving his shoulder against it to try and break it open.

* * *

Seeing an opponent on foot, Panthro had grudgingly felt obliged to battle in a similar fashion. The Lunatak he faced was one he'd never seen before, but he looked like an Icewalker, which meant he had to be wary of an ice breath attack. For whatever reason, not knowing that such an attack wasn't in Cameo's repertoire, he insisted on fighting hand to hand, using twin knives he kept on his person for just such an occasion.

Panthro whirled his nunchaku about his head and thrust one at his crouching enemy. The Lunatak blocked the clawed stave with his dagger, and jabbed for Panthro's mid-section with the other. The fight carried on for several minutes with the Lunatak largely on the defensive. Although ordinarily Panthro was the stronger of the two, Cameo still had Amok's proportionate strength and reflexes, allowing him to match him on that front. What Cameo did lack was the experience to use them, and Panthro's skill in the martial arts. "You fight pretty good," Panthro said, his nunchaku straining against Cameo's daggers.

"So do you. It's a shame you have to lose," the Lunatak replied.

"Cocky, aren't you?" Panthro said jumping back.

"Confident, not cocky," Cameo replied.

* * *

"Are you blind, Tug Mug? Blind as this geezer?" Alluro thought nastily to himself as the moon cannons narrowly missed him. "Better off not even bothering." It was bad enough that Lynx-O was able, largely, to avoid the psyche club crystal, but having to watch out for friendly fire made the fight that much more difficult. "Surrender, Lynx-O, you haven't got a chance!"

If the Thundercat made a response Alluro didn't hear it. Instead Lynx-O fired the guns of the Thunderstrike, getting closer to hitting the small, but manoeuvrable target. Again the moon cannons went off, this time thankfully at their intended target. The Thunderstrike's left pod suffered a direct hit, sparks and debris flying in all directions, forcing Alluro to nimbly move out of the way. "It's about time, Tug Mug," he muttered quietly to himself.

* * *

The halls of Sky Tomb were confusing to ones not familiar with them. While Wily Kit and Cheetara had indeed been inside the forbidding structure before, they had scarcely paid much attention to the layout. They knew the engine room, and consequently the dungeons, were in the basement so they followed any avenue that looked like it went down.

It had been easy getting into Sky Tomb, with all the commotion going on outside. The hangar bay doors were still open, allowing Cheetara and Wily Kit to sneak in on the latter's hover board. It got warmer as they went lower too, which they took as a good sign.

They heard voices approaching and ducked into the first room they could to hide. Wily Kit let out a squeak of revulsion, finding her mouth clamped over by the older woman. The room was a pigsty, covered in garbage and half eaten food. A thin leafy tree had somehow taken root in all the filth. Wily Kit noticed the large bed with a deep round indentation on it and could tell by this, and the overpowering stench, that it was Tug Mug's bedroom.

Cheetara slowly uncurled her hand from the child's mouth and pressed her ear against the door, noting with a measure of disgust that it was wet. She inched the door open and peeked out. She pushed it further and gave a thumbs up sign to the Thunderkitten, gesturing for her to follow quietly. Whoever it had been was long gone now.

A few minutes later they arrived at the prison block. Many of the cells had a plain metal door with a small grille in it, these ones, closest to the engine block, had bars instead. Wily Kit made a noise of relief at seeing her brother relatively unharmed. Immediately she set to work on the lock.

"Who are you?" Cheetara heard someone ask, turning in surprise to see the other two prisoners. She'd been so focussed on Wily Kat that she'd somehow failed to notice them. It was the male who had spoken to her with a somewhat friendly tone.

"I am Cheetara of the Thundercats, who are you?" she asked.

"I am Knave of House Iespyk, son of Nitro," he replied. He was staring at her, a strange tone creeping into the man's voice.

"What... What's wrong?" Cheetara asked. Her heart saw such incredible sadness in him and she yearned to comfort him.

"You remind me of my mother somehow," Knave said simply, turning so she wouldn't see the tears burning his eyes.

"Don't listen to him, Cheetara! He threatened to kill and eat me!" Wily Kat interrupted the tender scene before she could unlock his cell to let him out. "He's a Lunatak. He tried to kill the woman in there too, but she's having his kid or something."

"We don't have time for him, our friends need us," Wily Kit said, triumphantly opening the lock with a well placed explosive pellet.

"You're right. I'm sorry, friend. I don't know the life you've had, but if the Thundercats can ever help you, just ask." Cheetara looked to the kittens and led the way back out.

* * *

Luna and Amok had managed to gain the upper hand on Hachiman with the help of Chilla, who had begun hurling fireballs at the helpless samurai. Thus distracted he'd been unable to completely avoid Amok's flying fists, catching one across the chest and knocking the wind out of him. Snarling, Luna led her charge to press their advantage, pounding Hachiman's head into the earth with great force. While the helmet absorbed some of the blow, it was enough to render him unconscious.

* * *

"Ho!" Lion-O shouted, aiming the Sword of Omens at the nearest gun bay. His Thundercats were suffering heavy losses down there and he knew it was only a matter of time before the Lunataks overwhelmed them. How could this be happening, he wondered, evil wasn't supposed to triumph over good, were they? The gun exploded, granting him a moment's respite to see where he should go next.

"Lion-O! The ship is landing!" Pumyra said, turning to look over her shoulder at her leader. Indeed, the massive vessel was lowering rapidly to the ground. Nearby, near the base of it, he could see a door way opening. "Reinforcements?" she asked.

"I don't know, but I don't like the looks of it. Wait, over there, Lunataks running from Sky Tomb. I... I think they're leaving."

* * *

Tug Mug had realized the same thing moments ago when he'd detected the elevator lowering, and the cameras within had revealed Paeder and her cronies. A fleeting image of being abandoned on this planet crossed his mind and he bolted for the hangar. His only hopes were that his pistons would allow him to bounce to the ship in time.

* * *

All across the battlefield the Lunataks and Thunderians were coming to similar conclusions and reacting accordingly; the Lunataks had been on Third Earth too long, and did not want to wait for another rescue party to come, while the Thunderians were more than happy to see the Lunataks go, hopefully never to return.

Paeder used every curse word she knew as she ran for the gaping door. They had to take off before Queen Luna and the rest of her crew could get on board, it would serve them right for how they had treated her. Chilla, at least, could fly to the landing bay and help the Icewalkers gain more power. She was almost at the door when Alluro landed in front of her. "Ha, ha, ha, almost missed my ride," he chuckled dryly, entering. The delay was long enough for the others to close the gap between them. Reluctantly, Paeder conceded that she had seven additional passengers.

* * *

Lion-O sat on a large rock, breathing hard from the exertion of the last hour or so. The large spaceship had taken off and he couldn't help but feel a little uneasy about it all. The Lunataks weren't known for taking defeat kindly, and would doubtless return someday. Lion-O hoped that he and the good people of Third Earth would be ready for them when they did.

The Thundercats gathered together to assess their injuries, and inspect the damage caused to their vehicles. The latter were all still serviceable, at least enough to get back to Cat's Lair for intensive repairs, and the injuries to the former weren't fatal. Hachiman had been roused and complained of a terrible headache, and Tygra was favouring his left leg, the result of a piece of shrapnel hitting him in his fight with Red Eye. The Thunderkittens and Cheetara joined them and gazed likewise to the stars. "Is that it? Did we win?" Wily Kat timidly.

"I don't know. I wish I did," Lion-O replied.

"There are two Lunataks in the prison inside Sky Tomb. What should we do about them?" Cheetara asked. "One of them is similar in looks to Alluro, and the other is half Thunderian."

"Ah yes, the countryman I fought yesterday," Lion-O said. "We'll free them and let them decide. It would be cruel to just leave them there to starve. They've done us little harm, so I see no need to detain them further at Cat's Lair. If they agree to keep things that way, we can let them stay here."

"What? One of them is a savage. We can't just..." Wily Kat began.

"Lion-O is right. No matter what their disposition, leaving them in that prison cell would be a death sentence, and we Thunderians don't have that kind of penalty," Tygra said, stepping forward and standing beside his lord.

"It's settled then. Lead the way, then, Cheetara."

* * *

Knave and Zanaya took the news better than had been expected. Despite Wily Kat's fears, the two seemed docile enough, even accepting limited medical treatment for their injuries from the Wollo doctor before the Thundercats and the other freed prisoners left. The two Lunataks had declined offers of food and shelter, preferring to stay in Sky Tomb for the time being. Only Wily Kat knew the hostility that existed between the two, and he shuddered when Knave's eyes met his own.

* * *

"Check out this room!" Tug Mug said enthusiastically. With the shortage of space and allies, Luna insisted that her crew remain in the spacious guest quarters that had been prepared. She didn't trust Paeder at all, and suspected the captain might try something. Chilla disagreed, but chose not to protest. Paeder had sworn to transport them safely, and an Icewalker's word was their bond.

"Indeed Tug Mug," Red Eye said, eyeing the large bed enviously. Luna was going to claim it for her own and Amok would provide back-up. "It's been so long since we've seen luxuries it's hard to remember what life was like before all this."

"That's right. We left all our possessions on board the Excelsior, just like we did at Sky Tomb," Alluro said. "Do you think we'll ever go back?"

"I wouldn't doubt it. Getting revenge on those Thundercats would make me very happy. But first we must get our affairs in order back on the moons. A lot has changed since we left, and I'm sure all of you have friends and family you want to find out about. I hope whoever is in charge doesn't mind surrendering their crown. And if they do?" Luna chuckled, patting Amok meaningfully, causing the others to begin laughing too.

* * *

Even though he had seen plenty of devastation and ruined buildings in his time, Darius found the sight of the pastry factory difficult to look at, it reminded him too much of his recent entrapment under Aristarchus' manor. He, along with Roly Poly had been sent to investigate the collapse after a fire marshal reported finding some documents implicating Aristarchus' presence.

Darius couldn't hide a smile when he saw Roly Poly chewing on a box of cookies that had remained largely intact within the debris. "I keep hoping we'll come across Aristarchus' body," Darius remarked, turning one of the dead bodies over. A royal Lunatak whose head had been crushed by the rubble, but was too skinny to be Aristarchus.

"So do I," Roly Poly replied between bites. "Eet would be nice to tell Kaprenius the bad news when we leave tomorrow." The Gravitons were anxious to put the boy in front of their courts. They didn't get a chance to hold many serious trials, and were looking forward to their first in months.

"What do you expect will happen to him?"

"We'll be pushing for the death penalty," Roly Poly said. For a moment his normally jovial attitude was replaced with seriousness, fuelled by his thirst for retribution.

The typical Graviton death sentence had a victim's density increased until they were crushed under their own weight. With an offender like Kaprenius the rate of execution would doubtless be prolonged. His last moments would be excruciatingly painful. Darius shuddered at the thought. He jumped slightly when his radio chirped. "Sir? I just spoke to a neighbour whose surveillance system shows a car speeding by shortly after the explosion. I'm going to get a copy of the footage. Hopefully it'll show who did it," the gentleman on the radio announced.

"Affirmative," Darius replied, though he knew there wasn't much point. The footage would only reveal what they already suspected; that Aristarchus had gotten away.

* * *

The halls of the temple were busy as Mystan arrived, though most took the time to bow at his passing. Ordinarily he'd have accepted the respects with grace, but this morning he was in a rotten mood. His experiences on the Royal Moon had gone poorly, and now he was going to have to account for himself in front of the other elders. They would understand, no doubt, but that didn't make it any more pleasant.

They had debated hotly over whom they should back in the power struggle, and even with the oracle's words it had been a close vote. Mystan had, at the time, supported the notion that Aristarchus was the right choice. His mind was weak and his lust for power was great. One such as that could only benefit the Psion empire. And then he'd met the man and his dislike for him had grown exponentially.

All the council members were there, seated in plush chairs around a circular table. He closed the heavy wooden doors and took his seat, gazing around the table at his peers. He could see the questioning looks in their eyes and, most insultingly, the doubt. No. This wasn't going to be pleasant.

* * *

Paeder watched Third Earth slip away from view in the monitor, and breathed a sigh of relief to be headed home. She'd been on countless space flights and none had ever been this chaotic. The captain and his first mate were dead. The mission wasn't a complete success. But at least she'd rid herself of one of the half-breeds. She growled at the memory of that disgusting creature. The ship was better off without him, she firmly believed.

She had just finished instructing the pilot to set a course for home when the doors to the bridge opened, admitting Luna. The tiny woman looked displeased about something, and that boded ill for Paeder. Nonetheless, she was royalty, and honour dictated a certain level of courtesy. "Welcome aboard, your majesty," Paeder said, forcing a bow.

The Guardian and his charge walked close, far closer than she was comfortable with. "I am told that you are keeping a Psikaris of House Myntaello prisoner. May I ask why?"

The other half-breed, Paeder muttered to herself. She'd almost forgotten that she had had the engineer locked up. "It was an insurance policy to make sure Cameo followed instructions. He didn't, but I suppose I'm going to have to let her go."

Luna's expression didn't change, she was still displeased. "Indeed you are. Cameo is a friend of mine and my protection extends to his girlfriend. Release her at once."

"Of course," Paeder said, bowing again as Luna left the room. As soon as the door closed, Paeder made a rude gesture in the queen's direction. If this was what the future held for the monarchy then things looked bleak.

* * *

It was rather amusing, Alluro noted, to see the strange looks they were getting from the Icewalkers in the mess hall. Cameo had requested to speak with Luna in private, so he, Red Eye, Tug Mug and Chilla had been shown to the mess hall to grab a light snack before bed. They'd been wakened twice that night, once by Knave and Zanaya's assassination attempts, and again when the Thundercats arrived. Even still, they were too excited to sleep. Finally it felt like they were going home.

The food was pretty good, though he was comparing it to the food they'd had on Third Earth. He couldn't wait to get home and have a real meal. Psion cuisine was an acquired taste, but he'd always found it delicious.

Around the table the conversation centred on what awaited them back home, questions about what had happened to old friends and family as well as places and events. What kind of reception would await them too, was front and centre. Chilla knew what she could expect, if the awed looks from those around them were any indication, and Tug Mug suspected that he would be welcomed back with open arms. Gravitons were friendly to all kin, by and large, and he doubted that could have changed in their time away.

Alluro was less certain. His inclusion on the initial voyage had been controversial, many thought that someone of his intellect was more valuable back in the lab. But he'd been insistent, his thirst for knowledge forcing him to ruffle a few feathers. Besides, he'd argued, who better to explore a strange new world than he? Some called it ego. He called it the truth. A plate of some kind of eggs appeared in front of him. Chilla had received them as a gift, but she was unable to finish them. He smiled warmly at her, politely accepting them. Not quite as good as some he'd had, but the best he'd had in a long time.

* * *

His throat was bared, all it would take was a flick of her knife and the deed would be done. Something stayed her hand, though. After the Thundercats had helped them out of their prison cell, Knave and Zanaya had gone to the control room to review the logs, discovering that they were indeed the only Lunataks left on the planet. Knave had said little and commandeered Chilla's bedroom.

She stood in the doorway now, remembering only hours before standing in the same spot, same weapon in her hand. It had been a member of House Iespyk too. She wondered if the motion sensors were activated and whether she really wanted to do the deed right now. Bluntly, she needed him. The Thundercats would probably find somewhere that she could live, and raise her baby, but anywhere she went she'd be marked as a villain. Alluro and the other Lunataks had raised hell on this planet, and the denizens weren't likely to treat her well. And that meant living in Sky Tomb for the time being.

Knave wouldn't hurt her. Not yet. Not so long as she was pregnant. But he would after, unless she was able to change his mind or beat him to it. The Thundercats would probably accept him into their ranks, if he wanted, he had the heritage for it. But not her.

It took her a moment to realize that the strange feeling she felt was loneliness. She'd been alone before, but never like this, never without some way of getting back home among friends and family. Suddenly a part of her yearned for Knave's embrace and that shocked her. "Blasted hormones," she muttered to herself, leaving the doorway and heading to find a room of her own. Psion physiology often created a bond between mates during pregnancy, a means of ensuring that the child would have two loving parents to raise them. In a woman it created a sense of need towards the partner, while in the male it fostered a protectiveness, projected by the woman subconsciously. Maybe that was why Knave was so fond of his unborn child. She may have unknowingly created that feeling in him. Whatever the case, it had kept her alive in that prison cell, so she wouldn't complain.

A door near the room Knave slept in yielded the results she'd expected. Alluro's room. A long bed nestled against one wall, and a lab section dominating the other half. A robot stood at attention near a pile of boxes too, which unnerved her somewhat. Still, the robot didn't seem to be activated and hopefully wouldn't disturb her sleep. She crawled beneath the covers and curled up for a fitful sleep, dreaming dreams of being alone in the wilderness.

* * *

Knave scented her arrival and curled his hand around the slender icepick he kept beneath his covers. He was a warrior, trained to sleep with one eye open, making it almost impossible to catch him off-guard. He felt confident that she wouldn't betray him. Not yet. She would need him later in her pregnancy, just as he needed her. The words she had spoken in the prison cell stung as vibrantly as the wounds about his hands. He would never forget them, nor wholly forgive her.

As the door hissed closed again he heard her mumble something, but disregarded it. He relaxed his grip on the icepick and allowed himself to resume his peaceful slumber.

* * *

Although Luna had offered him quarters elsewhere, much to Paeder's dismay, Cameo had chosen to stay in the little room near the engines. He didn't need all the fuss made over him, just a place to rest his feet and some food in his belly. He didn't really feel like the latter, the uncertainty over his girlfriend dominating his thoughts. Upon arriving on the ship, he'd made a beeline for engineering and had been told that Psikaris was being detained elsewhere. The thought of what Paeder might have done to her, and memories of his own period of incarceration, drove hunger away. He ate what little food he could muster and went to his bunk, breathing the lingering scent of her body from the air. Was she alright? Had she been tortured or beaten? Did she hate him for abandoning her?

Cameo jumped when the door opened again. The air seemed to sing as Psikaris entered and his eyes began misting over. He pulled her into a deep embrace, fearing that if he let go that she might vanish. "I'm okay, Cameo," she said, the teasing tone barely concealing a worried one. She hadn't been given any updates on the goings on of Cameo and Knave, only that she was being held prisoner on his account. Finally he relinquished his hold on her and pulled her to the bed, resting her head on his shoulder. "What happened, Cameo?" she began, hesitantly.

Over the course of several minutes Cameo outlined the events, answering the few questions she had about Luna and her crew. When he finished he turned the question around, prompting her for an explanation of her time.

She related her arrest from the cargo hold, where she had been tinkering with a faulty temperature gauge, and how the security officers had been none too gentle about putting her in chains. Psikaris had tripped in the hallway and displayed the bruises beginning to form from where one of the guards had grabbed her to force her to her feet. Other than the physicality in arresting her, though, the guards had left her alone. Paeder wasn't around to perform an interrogation, so she was simply left hanging in the office. "But that's over with now," she murmured. "I'm safe now, and so are you. Maybe with Luna around, people like us will be accepted on the Moons."

"I hope so, 'Karis, I hope so."

* * *

Blackness. All around her was blackness. But she could think clearly, a rarity since that fateful day. Shade could recall the bitter taste of that water and the sudden onset of madness that came with it. She cast her eyes around in all directions, searching for anything. A Darkling was used to the darkness, but this felt different. "Where am I?" she asked aloud, the void swallowing up her words.

"You are within," a voice, as deep a voice as she had ever heard whispered, causing the very air to tremble. "You are everywhere and nowhere. You are at the core of your being. Call for light in the darkness, and it shall be so."

"I want light!" she said, confused by the words of the stranger. At once the area was full of light. There was little to see; she could see herself and a shadow that hovered by her side. "Who are you?"

"I am a friend. I can help you regain what you have lost. I was the one who has been guiding your thoughts, remembering who you once were. A vibrant hunter, strong, intelligent. I can help you get revenge on the ones who hurt you," the shadow said, flitting around her. She reached out instinctively to touch it, surprised at the warmth therein.

"Revenge?" she asked, hesitating.

"That's right. Revenge on the ones who robbed you of your mind. Iespyk. The family that stole your treasured intellect," the voice soothed, as the shadow wrapped around her shoulders.

"But they caught the man..."

"They caught the tool, but not the hand that wields the tool. Nitro ordered your fall, but Davyn paid the price. Even now I can feel your thirst for revenge, for the gifts I can give you," there was a seductive tone to the voice, one that Shade desperately wanted to give in to, though she knew it was wrong. The spirit knew it too, her soul was naked before the spirit, her innermost thoughts and emotions almost visible in the air around her. "I can give you your youth and vitality back, increasing it tenfold," it cooed.

"What? How?" Shade began, noticing now that the shadow was wrapping itself around her; when it had fully enveloped her she felt energy flowing through her, warping her, changing her. Suddenly she could see with crystal clarity, her hands were supple and free of the wrinkles and jutting veins that had marred them before. Her whole body was likewise transformed. A mirror appeared before her, and she saw herself as she had been many years ago, a young woman of about twenty.

"This is but a taste of the gifts I can give you," the spirit said, removing its influence and returning her to the gnarled old woman she had been.

Shade felt weakened and found a chair behind her, one she was sure hadn't been there a moment ago. "I don't understand. What do you get out of all this?"

The spirit seemed to laugh, though it made no noise, flitting back and forth in front of her. "I have been denied life for too long, I desire only to experience life once more through you, a body through which I can remember what it feels like to do the simplest things. To breathe, to taste, to be mortal again. I can help you and you can help me."

"I don't know. I want to listen but..."

"You still doubt my motives. I understand. I will make you whole for now, return you to the real world. I will bestow one more gift upon you before I do, however, the gift of knowledge. Your father is still alive and will return in one week. My offer will still stand, whenever you choose. I am patient. I can wait, after all, I've waited this long," the spirit said.

Shade barely had time to register the words before the world around her swirled. The light grew brighter and she awoke in a hospital bed. Tajengo still sat by her bedside, and rushed into her arms when he saw her awake. She was whole, her mind saw clearly, and she knew that the spirit was not lying. Her father, Red Eye, was coming home.

* * *

The hunt for Aristarchus was going poorly. The bulk of the Icewalker force had returned to the Ice Moon, though Nitro insisted on staying and aided the local forces in the search efforts. Tycho had settled into a steady routine over the last several days, making appearances, presiding over a few cases, and spending precious time with Darius and Eluosi.

He still felt a pang of guilt when he looked at the woman, her arm hanging limply at her side, reminding him of his own failure to protect her. He hadn't quite worked up the courage to propose to her as there always seemed to be something else interfering. Darius accused him of trying to find a way out of it, and there was perhaps some truth in it.

Darius wasn't around, at present, leaving Tycho alone with Nitro while they went through the latest reports on the search. Tycho was just about to suggest turning in for a late lunch when a courier bolted into the war room. "My liege! An urgent message for you!" the courier said, his eyes alight with excitement. He led Nitro and Tycho through the tangle of hallways until they reached the command centre. On a large monitor was an image of the interior of a spaceship, focussing on an empty captain's chair. Nitro, naturally, recognized it at once and realized what the message was likely to be.

A female voice off camera could be heard talking, prompting another woman to walk over to the captain's seat and sit down. "Greetings and honour to you, King Tycho of the Lunatak empire. I request permission to dock on the Royal Moon. We are carrying valuable cargo that you will be most interested in." She gestured with one hand and a petite Lunar woman astride a mammoth Guardian entered the picture.

Tycho knew the face at once, a picture of Luna hung in the audience chamber as a reminder of the queen who had been lost. At once he knelt on the floor, flanked by Nitro and the rest of the people in the control room. "Permission granted, my queen."

* * *

The Honour of the Moon was still almost a day away, leaving Tycho very little time to prepare the capital for the arrival of their true ruler. A parade route, leading from the docking bay to the palace was organized, and a large catering order was made. Everything had to go perfectly, and Tycho knew it. His first act had been to call Darius. Darius was good at organizing these things and would see to all the finer details that Tycho would miss.

Nitro too was busy, bustling around, getting his people fitted for dress uniforms. He knew, though Tycho didn't, that Chilla was likely on board that ship too. The sight of Paeder as captain confused him greatly, but his boy wasn't present and that was probably a good thing. The hours seemed too short, in the end, and the massive ship was skilfully docked in the middle of the hangar. Tycho, Nitro, Darius, and any other important dignitary that could be wrangled up on short notice, were present as the doors hissed open. Emerging from within, looking every bit the returning heroes, were Luna and the rest of her original crew. Behind them Paeder, Cameo and ranking officers.

Tycho knelt humbly at the feet of Amok, staring at the brute's knuckles, trembling not from fear but from excitement. "Welcome home, my queen. Your humble servant returns the throne to you and hopes he has done well as your caretaker," he said.

"Rise, Tycho Lunar. We will discuss the throne elsewhere, where there is more privacy. It's good to be home," Luna said, clearly enjoying the adulation from the crowd.

"Of course. If you'll follow me, there's a dinner to be served shortly." He stood and led the procession through the streets, waving politely at the cheering throng. They passed into the palace proper and walked to the large banquet hall that he himself had seldom used, preferring more intimate meetings to lavish affairs.

The food was exquisite, all five moons represented with signature dishes, and ample supplies of everything. The heroes sat together at the head table, joined by Tycho, Darius, Nitro, and Paeder. Conversation centred around all that had transpired both on the moons and on Third Earth in the eighty years Luna had been absent. Underlying it all were questions about the future and what it held.

Tycho found it difficult to concentrate on the meal, his stomach felt as though a gravity carbine had been used on it. Luna was back and looking as young as she had when she'd left. It boggled his mind to imagine how they could have survived their lava bath, and hearing of their exploits on Third Earth made it that much more unbelievable. But he also wondered what his place would be. Traditionally there was no such thing as a ruler stepping aside for another. In Luna's day the crown was pried from the dead fingers of the previous ruler; he hoped she wasn't a stickler for tradition.

Though he found himself conversing with both Luna and Tug Mug, Tycho couldn't help but look around at his fellow dinner companions. Darius and Red Eye were engrossed in a discussion on the jungles of the Dark Moon and how new species were threatening some of the old ones. Paeder was pointedly ignoring Alluro, the latter seeming pleased to be able to carry both sides of a conversation.

 

At the far end, Nitro and Chilla side by side. It was almost amusing to Tycho, to see how Nitro cowed himself in his mother's presence, though she was old enough to be his daughter. He knew of Icewalker politics and knew that Chilla's return automatically made her the matriarch of the House, giving her rank above Nitro. They were in the same boat he realized, himself and Nitro. Both in command and both having to take a step back now that another was here. The difference was Tycho had no craving for power. Nitro did.

After the desserts were finished, people began to drift away, bidding their final goodbyes to Luna and the others. With most people gone, Luna turned her full attention to Tycho. "You conceded the throne to me rather quickly. Why?" she asked, producing a riding crop and tapping it gently against the palm of her hand.

The room went quiet. This was the moment many had been anticipating. "With all due respect," Tycho said, picking his words carefully. "My duty is to serve the empire first, personal preferences come second. In this instance duty and desire are one. I have very little desire to wear the crown, I only desire to live peacefully, away from all this. I pledge my loyalty to you and offer to assist you in the transition, but the throne is not for me."

Luna's gaze intensified, searching him for deceit. Finally it was her Guardian that spoke. "Amok like," he said, turning those beady eyes towards his master. Tycho hadn't noticed it, but the beast had been staring equally hard at him.

"Amok is a good judge of character," Luna said. "He can often tell when someone is lying to me, and if he says you can be trusted then he's probably right. I accept your offer, Tycho Lunar. Much has changed in these last eighty years, and I will need people around me who know the moons and their situations."

He let go a breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding. "Thank you, Queen Luna. I won't disappoint you," he said. Her smile told him that he had better not or the consequences would be messy. "Shall I arrange transport for your associates? I'm sure they will want to return to their home moons. Perhaps accommodations for them can be arranged too. I doubt they have any holdings or possessions left after all this time."

"I would like that, you may see to it. Any of you who wish to return here after will be welcomed. We share a common past, and I would like people I know around me. I'm sure I can find positions for you all."

Red Eye was the first to speak. "I promise to return to you, Luna. There's not much left for me on the Dark Moon."

"I look forward to it, then, Red Eye," Luna said. The other Lunataks added their opinions, suggesting that most would likely return to the capital at some point or other.

"I will be heading back to the Ice Moon then," Paeder announced, rising smoothly from her seat. "I expect sire Chilla and Nitro will be accompanying me?"

"That would be fine. I want to see firsthand what my son has done," Chilla hissed, causing Nitro to flinch slightly. Mother and son followed Paeder out the door and to the Honour of the Moon. As they did, Cameo and Psikaris approached. They had been listening a discrete distance away.

"We should be taking our leave too, my queen. It's been an honour serving you," Cameo said, bowing.

"Don't stay away too long. It wouldn't do for my new captain of the fleet to be away from his post," Luna said. Cameo almost didn't catch it, she'd said it so fluidly, but stopped mid-stride, confusion rampant on his face. "Being trustworthy is a rare trait for a Lunatak, and those are the kinds of people a smart ruler keeps around them. You have proved yourself to be trustworthy, and so your place is here. I will find a similar posting for Psikaris here too, I wouldn't want you pining away for her instead of doing your job." She was smiling, a sight which made her face actually look more attractive. Somehow, that open smile made him feel better about his decision to bring her back.

"Thank you, Queen Luna. We truly appreciate it," Psikaris said. When Luna waved them away, they sprinted to catch up to Nitro and Chilla.

Luna looked one more time around the banquet hall. It had been so long since she'd been in this room, and it didn't look much different. A new coat of paint had been added and faded hangings had been replaced, but it still felt like home. She couldn't stop her pleasure at being home from showing, and didn't really care either. She was back and she was in charge. All was right with the universe.


	6. Chapter 6

Heritage of the Lunatak Empire by Jonathan J. Prideaux  
Epilogue

As she gazed out the window, Chilla could see her home moon growing larger and larger in the distance. Home. Could it really be true that she was heading home at last? The people on board had tried to tell her all the things that had changed, but they all seemed so fantastic that she wondered if they could all be true. This ship alone seemed like some kind of make-believe.

Her son had avoided her, though, reluctant to talk about the changes he'd made, and evading more so when she asked why he'd bedded a Thunderian. She had lectured him that Thunderians were sources of food, not pleasure. Still, she found it hard to be angry with him with the majestic sight of the Ice Moon rapidly filling the front window of the ship. Soon the jagged peaks of her home city became clear, wind and avalanche having changed much of the scenery, and they were swallowed up by the hangar bay.

Her hands shook when the door swished open and she saw the multitude of Icewalkers that filled the bay. Anyone of any importance made sure they were present. Luna would have been annoyed to find out that her hero's welcome was being dwarfed by Chilla's. The word 'dwarf' caused Chilla to begin snickering, confusing Nitro greatly.

"Chilla has returned! Long live Chilla!" they shouted at her. She saw it all and felt a surge of pride.

* * *

Alluro's reception on the Psion Moon was one of less fanfare. The small transport ship he flew in on carried him across the vast sand dunes towards the capital. A storm was approaching and, for one horrified moment, Alluro thought he was back on Third Earth, heading towards Mumm-Ra's black pyramid. His mind betrayed him, and fear grew within his chest, alleviated only when he saw the magnificent city.

The capital had grown since his departure, spreading out from the lake like a vine. The wonders of technology, he mused, allowing his once nomadic people to settle and live where once living had been impossible. He couldn't help but wonder what advances would have been made had he not been stranded on Third Earth and, more importantly, what new knowledge he could use to his advantage.

When the ship landed, only a single dignitary, a low ranking priest, was there to greet him. The young man took Alluro to his new home, explaining that the elders were busy with other matters and would attend him at their convenience. As Alluro settled his body on the bed provided, in sparse quarters, he asked himself how his life could have changed so much. There had been a time when the elders would have ended their meeting for him. And now?

* * *

The Graviton Moon looked very much the same to Tug Mug. The same landmarks, the same buildings, the same sort of people frequenting the same pubs. Tycho had arranged lodging for the rotund Lunatak, but he had other priorities. He'd been away for such a long time that he'd been craving real beer. The same kind he had been drinking shortly before he'd boarded the Excelsior. Come to think of it, he'd had a keg brought on board that ship. He wondered what had happened to it. Was it still good to drink?

He pushed the door open of the 'Red Raven' pub and rolled through, settling at the bar and eyeing the beer menu. The bartender gave him a polite greeting and informed him that the tab he'd amassed years ago had been covered by the council in honour of his return, and that the first round was on the house. "Butter flavoured beer?" he said, the flavour popping off the menu. "I guess some things do change. I'll have one of those."

* * *

Red Eye's first stop was the public archive on the Darkling Moon. Seeing Chilla and Nitro interacting on the Royal Moon had made him wonder about his own family. His wife, his daughter, and more. He had searched the records and found, somewhat disturbingly, that his wife had re-married a few years after his disappearance and died with her husband in an accident. He shouldn't have been surprised, but he found that the news still stung.

Word that his daughter still lived lightened his spirits, though. News reports had her involved in an explosion a few weeks ago, though the report indicated she was expected to recover. Finding her address was easy enough, and he made his way there at once. With shaking hands he rang the bell to her residence, startled to see a young boy answering the door. Was this a grandson? "You... you're Red Eye, aren't you? Nana Shade said you were coming, but I thought it was the madness again. Nana! He's here! He's here!" The boy shouted, calling up a flight of stairs.

Distantly, Red Eye could hear a "Send him up."

Eagerly the boy did so, leading Red Eye up the flight of stairs and ushering him into a room lit by a pair of lamps. The woman seated on her bed was frail, and had suffered the effects of old age, but he recognized her regardless. Tears streaming down both their faces, Red Eye took Shade into his arms, holding her tightly. The child, he noticed, had slipped away to give them some privacy. "I can scarcely believe my eyes," Shade croaked, touching her father's face to affirm that it was flesh and blood and not some trick. "You finally came home."

"I did, Shade, and I'm never leaving you again."

* * *

Crouched low in his car, windows tinted, Aristarchus watched the home of Eluosi Brythago. He had followed Tycho here and could see a passionate exchange going on in the living room. Though he couldn't hear a word that was being said by either party, the subject was clear. Tycho didn't need a marriage anymore and was trying to break the news to her and her mother gently. The former king was pleading with her to understand and accept his apology and Eluosi was not having any of it.

She struck him hard with her good hand, driving him to his knees, and pointed angrily at the front door. Like a snivelling Jackal with its tail between its legs, Tycho slunk from the building.

Aristarchus laughed quietly to himself. Ambitions for the throne were secondary at this point, Luna could rule in his stead for now. Tycho had made the war between them a personal matter, and now Tycho had given him the perfect weapon to bring his downfall. What better than a jilted lover?


End file.
